Family Ties: History's Redundancy
by AuthoressMegz
Summary: AU. History repeats itself sometimes, and as Aria, Sean, and Jake discover in this story, it can bring both happiness and pain beyond compare, both love and despair. Picks up six years after the end of Family Ties: Adjustments. Full summary inside.
1. The End of the Beginning

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything you recognize as J.K. Rowling's, or any other author's. I do _not_ intend to make _any_ money from this story. This is only one aspiring author's attempt at contributing to the wonderful world that is fan fiction, without which my invented characters would spin around in my head forever with no outlet. I only ask that I be allowed to use the world Rowling has created as a setting for these characters, and that I maybe borrow a few of her characters along the way. But as I said before: No money will be made from this story. Please don't sue!

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**Full Summary**: History repeats itself sometimes. It's inevitable. But as Aria Granger, Sean Weasley, and Jake Parks will soon learn, the redundancy of history can bring both unspeakable joy and heart-wrenching pain, both love and heartbreak.

It's been almost six years since Aria Granger discovered the identity of her father, who had been conspicuously absent for the first eleven and a half years of her life, though she paid a terrible price for it: the death of her mum. Now Jake Parks, one of her best friends, is getting restless. He's lived with the Weasleys for almost his entire life, ever since his mum left him with them when he was five years old after his father disappeared.

Determined to find his father now that he's done with school, Jake sets out on a challenging journey that takes him far from the place he's always called home, meeting some new people along the way, and falling into a whole heap of trouble that will show him exactly what – and _who_ – is most important to him, what the word 'family' means, and the very distinct, age-old comparison between what is right and what is easy.**

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An Important Note – Please Read!**: This is the sequel to Family Ties 2: Adjustments, which is the sequel to Family Ties: The Beginning, so I strongly advise you to read those before this one as it will probably make more sense, but if you don't, I guess that's just your loss. I'll try my best to make this story understandable for someone who hasn't read the first two to the best of my ability. :)

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**Author's Note**: Well, here it is! I'm pretty sure this is going to be the final installment of the Family Ties series. I'm hoping this last story will tie up all loose ends my reviewers have been pestering me about. I know I said I'd get it out yesterday, but I was super busy last night and didn't have time. So, here is the long-awaited final (I hope) installment of Family Ties. Happy reading!

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**Update 9/21/08**: In case you haven't heard yet, this is _not_ the final installment of Family Ties. The plot was simply too involved, and as it grew and changed, I realized I can't possibly fit it all into a story without it turning into some sort of epic, million-chapter thing. So that said, the fourth story probably won't be out until later this winter. I have other projects I'm working on currently, so it could take awhile for me to get started on FT4. Thanks for your attention. Read on!

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**Family Ties: History's Redundancy**

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**Chapter One: The End of the Beginning**

Jake's POV

There isn't going to be a ceremony. No public announcement, no big crowd gathered, no _celebration_. The only acknowledgement made to the seventh years' graduation will be the end-of-N.E.W.T.s parties being held in every Common Room tonight. Other than that, it's like this isn't our last year at all. It's as though next fall, we'll be back at Platform 9¾ to board the Hogwarts Express for another long year of school. Except we won't.

It's hard to believe this is our _last year_. We won't be coming back. And unless we become teachers, most of us probably will never see the castle again. And I can't speak for any of my classmates outside Gryffindor, but _I_ certainly don't plan on becoming a teacher anytime soon.

Sitting in the Common Room with my three best friends Skyla Janes, Aria Granger, and Sean Weasley (the latter two of which are sort of step-siblings, though I'm not quite sure how to explain it), not really studying for my Transfiguration exam because I know I'll pass with flying colors, I watch some first years sitting under a window together, laughing and joking around.

Then I look at the other seventh years in the room – none of them are laughing, or even smiling. If they're not sitting somewhere with their head stuck in a book or studying their notes rigorously, they're looking around like me, with a sad expression on their faces. I catch the eye of one of my dorm mates and friends, Mike Carson. He gives me a grim smile.

I return the look just as sadly. There is only one week left of what had seemed to be an endless education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When we were eleven, it felt as though the prospect of graduating and leaving school was a far-off thought of the future. And now it's right in front of us, taunting us with its nearness, frightening us. Or at least that's how it seems to me.

Abby Weasley – Sean and Aria's younger sister - is one of those happy-go-lucky first years, along with her extensive group of friends. She's sitting near the empty fireplace – it's much too warm this time of year for a fire – with a cluster of first and second year boys and girls – including the ever-hilarious Lily Potter – chatting, laughing, reading, studying, drilling. They're preparing for their last exams of the day – Charms for the first years and Herbology for the second years. It's almost laughable how worried they are.

I long to be among them, worrying about nothing but simple charms and spells that any second year could do without thinking.

Aria Granger looks over at me and catches my eye with a concerned frown. I attempt to smile at her, but I fail somewhat miserably.

"You okay?" she asks quietly. I swallow. I know the expected answer, and I can feel it resting on the tip of my tongue, but I can't speak. The answer to the question itself is easy enough – no, I'm not really okay. But the way she's looking at me with that troubled look on her face, her head tilted to one side, she just looks so damn _beautiful._ I know I shouldn't be thinking this. She's my _best friend_. Hell, she's my other best friend's_ sister! _She's practically _my_ sister. Okay, ew. Can't think like _that_.

I can't help it though. I've fancied her for years. She's funny and beautiufl and witty and clever. She's wicked fast both on a broom and on foot – she can outrun Sean and me (combined – we once tired to outrun her relay-style, and she still won). She's the best Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, earning her the coveted Captain position again this year, which is sure to lead us to the Cup in four days' time. She's just … perfect. In every way.

"Jake?" she asks, her concern deepening when I don't reply. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"I'm…" I pause to figure out exactly what it is I'm feeling. "I'm just a bit sad and surprised that we're actually leaving in only one week. And never coming back," I reply at last. She smiles slightly at me, and my heart skips a beat.

"I understand," she says simply, returning to her book. Unlike me, she's been studying for Transfiguration since our Charms N.E.W.T. ended over an hour ago. Transfiguration isn't her best subject like it is mine. Then again, she could probably recite our DADA book cover to cover _backwards; _she's always excelled in that class.

I notice Sean glance at me, then at Aria. He smiles to himself and looks quickly back down at his textbook as though he'd never paused. I watch suspiciously him for a few seconds to see if he does it again. When he doesn't, I go back to staring around the Common Room.

Sean's suspected – or, more accurately, _known_ – that I've fancied Aria for a very long time. Probably since we were eleven or twelve years old. I remember him screaming at me once and referring to Aria as my 'precious little girlfriend', which had been extremely uncomfortable for me, seeing as Aria had been standing right behind him at the time.

I glance back over at Sean to see him looking at me again. I frown at him, and he just smiles again before burying his nose in his textbook once more.

I'm about to open my mouth to ask him just what he finds so amusing when the bell rings, and we all jump in surprise. Aria nearly drops her book.

"Oh no," she murmurs, a panicked look creeping over her face. "Oh no. I'm not ready!" She frantically scrabbles for her bag and slings it over her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm going to fail," she moans, burying her face in her hands.

"Aria," I say sternly, and she looks at me from between her fingers. "You're going to do fine," I say confidently. "You're one of the best in our year. You'll pass easily."

"Don't say that!" she gasps. "You'll jinx it!"

I roll my eyes and smile. "You'll do great," I assure her, taking her by the shoulders and steering her toward the portrait hole. She takes a deep breath.

"Yes," she agrees. "I'll do just fine. Just be confident. I'll be fine."

I smile at her self-coaching as we walk down the hall with Sean and Skyla. Sean gives me another knowing look, and I roll my eyes again.

"I still don't see why you haven't asked her out yet," he murmurs to me with a grin. I glare at him. He's been torturing me with this for months – or more like _years_.

"Because, I know she won't say yes," I hiss back. He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Sure about that?"

"_Yes_."

"What are you two talking about?" asks Skyla, dropping back behind Aria, who's still talking to herself.

"Nothing," we reply in unison. It's well known how well Skyla can keep a secret – which is to say, not at all. The only secrets she keeps are her own, and sometimes Aria's on a good day. Not to say she we don't love her (as a friend of course). We just don't trust her with anything we don't want the whole school to know by lunch – which is why she _still_ has no clue as to how I really feel about Aria after almost seven years.

She just gives us a disbelieving look before falling in step with Aria again, a few paces ahead of us. Skyla is one of my best friends, and I love her, but she's extremely nosy. I'm sure no one is surprised that she wants to pursue a career in journalism. She'll be great at it.

That's another problem I have. I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life. Aria's set her heart on becoming a Healer like her mum was and like her mum's best friend currently is. Sean's so amazing at Quidditch that he's already been offered a spot on countless different teams, and his only decision is which one he wants to play for. (Ron's been trying to get him to accept the Chudley Cannons' offer, but everyone knows they suck – except Ron, who truly believes they will one day win the Quidditch World Cup.)

Aria could play professionally as well if she wanted to – she's absolutely amazing on a broomstick – but she doesn't like the idea of a profession where she could be fired at a moment's notice because the manager found a better player. I also suspect she doesn't like the idea of having to travel so far from home all the time for games, though she'd probably never admit it to me.

Mike Carson is going to become an Auror, like Ron. He'll be good at it – next to Aria, he's the best in our DADA class. Brian Foster, another one of my dorm mates is going into Magical Law Enforcement because both of his parents are in that department.

Karen Vemborrow, one of Skyla and Aria's roommates, is going into Quidditch professionally as well. She wants to play for the Holyhead Harpies, which used to be an all-women's team for years (why any bloke would openly admit to being a _harpy_ is still beyond me, but there you have it). She says her dream is to make it that way again. She'll probably do it too. She's very strong-willed.

Karen's best friend Kelsey Bryns is going to write for the popular magazine _Witch Weekly_. She's already been offered an internship there. Like Skyla, she's gossipy and nosy, so she'll be great there. Their common trait is what enables the two of them to get along so well, and also explains how Aria can hardly stand Kelsey (although it's still a mystery as to why she tolerates Skyla – then again, I don't know why _I_ tolerate her either).

Our last dorm mate, Aiden Mydlin, is going to Australia. Gringotts has recently expanded, and he's going to be working as a cursebreaker there, like Sean's and Aria's uncle Bill, who has been running the branch in France for years now.

So, all of the seventh year Gryffindors know what they're going to do with their lives – all of them except for me. I've thought about some careers, but nothing's really stood out to me yet. I know I _don't_ want to be an Auror, a Healer, a cursebreaker, a journalist, or a professional Quidditch player (not that I've gotten any offers for the last), but that doesn't help me much.

It's at times like this that I wish I had a father. Not just Ron, who's as good as a father to me, but a _real_ father. Ron's always treated me like I belong at the Weasley household, which I'm thankful for, but he's not my dad. He's never given me the same special attention Abby, Aria, and Sean and their little brother Henry get. He loves me, but he doesn't _love_ me – not like a real father.

Then again, if my real father loves me, he has a sucky way of showing it considering I haven't seen him for over thirteen years. I don't even remember him.

We arrive at the Great Hall for our final N.E.W.T. the same time as all the other seventh years. Some of our friends from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff nod at us, but don't come over to talk. They're too nervous. We all are.

The seventh years file into the Great Hall in silence, looking at the numerous single desks set up with growing apprehension. The seats are alphabetical, but we already know where to sit, considering we've been taking these tests all week. I sit down behind Emily Palstone and in front of Deryn Peterson. Harry – I mean, Professor Potter – stands at the front of the hall with the giant hourglass and waits for us all to be seated.

"Okay. I'm sure you all know the drill by now," he calls, waving his wand so our exams appear on our desks, face down. "Ready. Go!" He flips the hourglass over as we simultaneously turn the tests over.

_Question One: What are the five principles of human transfiguration?_

Rolling my eyes, I list them, the answers jumping from my head to my paper via quill naturally. Transfiguration is such a simple subject.

The rest of the questions are similarly easy for me. I set my quill down and screw the top back on my ink jar and lean back to stretch. Looking around, I see I'm the first one done. I know I should probably go over my answers again to double-check them, but I really don't feel like it. Besides, I know I'll pass. I knew all of the answers.

I glance over at Aria, sitting at the other end of the hall with Brian Foster in front of her and Cassidy Helmer behind her. I'd love to sit here staring at her profile for the rest of the hour, but Harry has absolutely zero tolerance for cheating, and even though he's known me practically my whole life, he'd throw me out of the Hall in a heartbeat if he saw me glancing anywhere but at my own desk.

Sean, Aria, and I have always found his cheating policy rather hypocritical of him, seeing as Ron "accidentally" let spill once that he and Harry copied Aria's mum's homework almost religiously when they were in school. But either way, he'd still have no qualms about kicking me out.

Reluctantly, I pull my eyes back down to my paper and pick up my quill. I wish I'd thought to bring some sugar quills. Then at least I'd have something to do while I wait. Twirling my quill in my fingers, I look at the blue-and-grey feathers spinning away. Finally I uncap my ink again and begin doodling on a scrap of parchment.

Thirty minutes later, Harry yells out for everyone to stop. People groan and lay their quills down while others hastily scribble last answers as quickly as they can. He might not permit cheating, but at least Harry usually gives us all a few extra seconds to finish before actually making us stop.

"Alright everyone! Time to stop! Put those quills down!" he calls. "Lauren, I mean it!" he warns. Lauren Aandros lays her quill down reluctantly, a blush creeping into her cheeks. I catch her eye and smile at her, and she blushes even more, which only serves to confuse me. She glances away quickly at whatever expression she sees on my face.

Harry waves his wand and all of the scrolls roll themselves up and land on the table behind him in a neat pyramid. "I'll let you go in just a minute," he says patiently as some of the students start to stand. "I just want to wish you all a good summer and tell you that whatever you choose to do with your life, I hope you excel at it. You've all been wonderful students. Dismissed!"

Everyone else bolts as fast as they can. I linger for awhile, packing up my stuff and crumpling my doodles into a ball and vanishing it, just because I can. I look up to see Skyla and Sean already on their way out the door, deep in conversation. Skyla is brandishing the exam paper at him somewhat angrily, as though she doesn't agree with his opinion on one of the questions. I smile at their backs. They'd never admit to it, but they'd make a great couple.

I glance over to see Aria talking to Harry, an easy smile on her face. I feel my heart speed up as I watch her tuck a stray curl behind her ear and laugh slightly. Merlin, she's beautiful.

Harry looks my way and smiles. Aria sees his face and turns to see what he's looking at – she smiles too. I feel a smile spread across my face instantly when I look at her. It's just a natural reaction around Aria.

"So, how do you think you did?" Harry asks as I join the two of them at the front table. I shrug.

"I thought it was easy," I say nonchalantly. Aria shakes her head at me.

"I thought it was terrible," she admits. "I'm so awful at Transfiguration. I wish I were as good at it as you are," she says, a touch of jealousy and a hint of admiration in her tone. I smile down at her.

"Well, I thought the written Defense test was hard, and you thought it was easy, so I guess it's all in perspective," I say with another shrug.

"That's true," she comments, casting me a slightly shy smile. I feel my stomach clench.

"Well, I think you'll both do fine. You're both wonderful students. I suppose I'll see you both tomorrow night," Harry says with a smile. He's throwing the seventh year Gryffindors a sort of graduation party tomorrow in his office. We wanted it in the Common Room, but he said it wouldn't be fair to the others who actually wished to spend time in there.

We nod at him and make our way outside to where most of the other students are hanging out. Sean and Skyla have taken up residence underneath a tree on the lake shore. They're still debating on the exam. I laugh at them as I sit down.

"What's so funny?" snaps Skyla somewhat viciously. I raise my eyebrows at her tone. Skyla can get over-excited sometimes, and the results usually mean enduring bouts of nastiness directed at _me_. She shakes her head, and the anger dies out of her eyes quickly.

"I'm sorry, Jake," she says somberly. I smile at her.

"It's fine," I insist. "It's just the stress getting to all of us."

"Hey," Aria says suddenly. "Why are we stressed? Exams are over! We're completely and totally _free_! We should go swimming," she suggests impulsively. I smile at her in amusement.

"And _what_ do you propose we go swimming in?" Skyla asks, her snappishness returning as it usually does when Aria makes a suggestion for an activity that can't be easily carried out. I try not to betray anything as Sean stands up behind her, pressing a finger to his lips.

Aria's face falls theatrically, but her blue eyes are twinkling mischievously as she watches Sean. She'd never let Skyla's nastiness actually hurt her feelings – she's too used to it.

"I mean, who actually brings a bathing suit to school? No one actually goes swimming! What a dumb suggestion. What are we going to go swimming _in?"_ Skyla asks again, rolling her eyes. She doesn't realize how cruel she is sometimes, but we've all learned to take it in our stride. It's the younger students who really suffer her bluntness, because they're more sensitive and not used to Skyla's harsh treatment.

"Well," says Sean, scooping Skyla into his arms and carrying her toward the lake, "I'd say that most people go swimming_ in_ the lake!" And with that he launches her into the water, Skyla shrieking hysterically.

A few seconds later, she surfaces, her blonde curls plastered to her head, a furious look on her face. Her makeup is running, and her casual Muggle clothes cling to her wet frame. I can't hide my grin.

Sean is laughing uncontrollably on the shore, and Aria is slowly inching toward me as she laughs, moving out of Skyla's range of wrath.

Skyla tracks through the shallow water and comes to a stop directly in front of Sean, who, despite his obvious fear of behind slapped, cannot seem to control his laughter.

"Sean Weasley, that was just plain _mean_!" she snarls angrily. For a split second I wonder if she really will slap him – it's not like she's never done it before. Sean just keeps laughing.

"It was mean and deceitful and just … just horrible!" she continues, glaring at him. She's nearly as tall as he is, which makes her even scarier when she's mad at you. Aria is short enough that it's not quite as terrifying to see her angry as it is Skyla. Plus, Aria's temperament has improved considerably since we were younger, and she hardly ever finds reason to yell – except at Skyla.

"Wow, Skyla. I am _so_ sorry," Sean snorts, still sniggering.

"Oh, I'm sure you will be," she says somewhat evilly. I eye her warily. Skyla always makes good of her threats. Sean's smile falters slightly.

"Hey now," he says, holding up his hands, as she takes another step closer so they're pressed together. He leans away from her nervously. "You're getting me all wet," he warns her. She just smiles at him and wraps her arms around her neck. I grin.

"You deserve a nice…" Skyla starts, pulling his head down as though to kiss him. Sean's eyes widen in shock. "…wet…" His look only grows more frightened as she pulls him closer. "…dip in the lake!" she shrieks, moving away at the last possible second and sending him sprawling into the water. He lands on his face in the shallows.

"That was mean," he says as he spits out water. "I was afraid you were actually going to kiss me."

Skyla laughs it off, but I can see his reply bothers her slightly. She asked Sean out once when we were fifteen, and he said no, claiming it would complicate their friendship, so she hasn't asked since. But she still fancies him. Not enough to want to take it anywhere serious, but she's had a little crush on him for awhile now.

Aria seems to notice the slight tension too. "Well, now that Sean has had his monthly bath," she says, and I laugh. No matter what she says, Aria can make it sound funny. Of course, that could all be in perspective as well…

"We should go flying," she suggests, Sean perks up instantly. I swear, if you didn't know better, you'd think they were blood relatives.

"I don't want to go flying," Skyla pouts. "I'm all wet."

"Come on, Sky, it'll be fun," Aria insists. "I'll let you ride my old broom."

Aria's "old" broom is hardly even a year old. Her granddad bought it for her sixteenth birthday, and then this year she got another brand new broom from her dad. They're both extremely good models, although the newer one is the latest style in professional Quidditch.

Skyla makes a big show about it as we walk down to the Quidditch pitch. She really loves flying, but everything she does is dramatic. That's just another reason we love her. If we didn't, no one would.

Aria unlocks the Gryffindor Quidditch team broom shed, and hands Skyla her barely-used Firestreak 12. Skyla tosses it from hand to hand lightly, testing the weight as though it's changed since the last time she rode it three weeks ago.

"Here you go," she says to me, holding out her _other_ "old" broom. She actually gave it to me to use permanently after she got the Firestreak 12, and this model is barely four years old. It's one of the last ever made Firebolt 11's, which makes it really valuable, and she gave it to _me_ for my seventeenth birthday.

Sean takes out the broom he got for his seventeenth birthday. It's even better than Aria's broomstick, if that's possible. It's the same exact model, except Ron and Harry somehow weaseled it out of some shop stocker before it was even released to the public, which, to Sean, makes it better.

"Alright," says Aria, extracting her own Stormbreacher 800 from the mass of tangled broomsticks and locking the shed again. "Let's go."

We head out onto the pitch together. It's such a perfect day for flying. Barely any breeze and blue skies. The ground is firm but not rock-hard.

Aria and Sean kick off almost instantly, Skyla and me following close behind. Aria and Sean are what _make_ the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Without them, we would not have won the last six consecutive Cups. And Aria is bound and determined to bring home another. She's been working us like dogs for months, just working up to this final match.

It's really no small wonder that Sean has been offered so many Quidditch positions. There have been scouts from almost every team in Europe and beyond at our matches over the course of the last two years, watching his every move, every catch, every throw with greed and longing in their eyes.

Of course, what they really want is Aria, but she's turned down every offer so far, and most team scouts have given up. Of course, since the final match of the year is up in four days, there will most certainly be some die-hard coaches and managers here, hoping once more to convince the amazing Aria Granger to join their team. I almost feel sorry for them.

Flying feels wonderful. When I'm flying, all of my worries, doubts, and cares just fly away with the wind. I grin at Skyla as I loop around her, making her shriek. She's not so great with a broomstick, but she's a lot better than she was six years ago. I just love to torment her.

Aria laughs at Skyla's discomfort and imitates me, spiraling around her and zigzagging back and forth in her path, just to get a rise out of her. The only place we ever actually _try_ to make Skyla mad is up in the air – otherwise, we'd most certainly suffer worse than she.

"This is just … the perfect day," Aria comments, flying up beside me. Once more I marvel at how well she handles the broom. Here she is, Muggle-raised until she was eleven, never even been on a broomstick until the age of twelve (unless you count the stupid flying lesson we got as first years, during which we never even got up in the air more than five feet), and she's the best seventeen-year-old player in the country – maybe in all of Europe. Amazing.

"It is the perfect day," I agree, smiling at her. "Perfect in every way."

Just like you.**

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A/N**: Chapter one for you all! It's longer than I had originally anticipated, but that's okay! The following chapter may not be quite as long as this one, but they won't be horribly short either. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review!


	2. A Party and a Quidditch Match

**A/N**: I just want to say that almost all of this story is either Aria, Jake, or Ron's point of view up until chapter nine, when you're introduced to a new character that also plays a predominate part in this story, so you get a lot of their point of view too. There are tiny other pieces of some other characters' points of view, but it's mainly Aria, Jake, Ron, or that other character you haven't met yet. ;) Happy reading!

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**Chapter Two: Professor Potter's Party and a Final Quidditch Match**

Jake's POV

"Mate, are you ever going to ask her?" Sean asks me in an undertone. I glance around quickly before answering.

"What do you want me to do, Sean? I can't just go up to her and ask her just like that! What if she doesn't feel the same way?" Normally, I wouldn't let my insecurities show quite so much in front of people, but no one else is paying attention to us, and Sean is my best friend.

We're holed up in a corner of Harry's office where all of the seventh year Gryffindors are gathered for our party. Aria and Skyla are talking to Karen and Kelsey, laughing about something or other. I watch them for a few seconds before Sean's voice brings me back to earth.

"You're in _love_ with her!" Sean says, exasperated. I feel my ears redden slightly, and I'm glad for the dim lighting.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," I say calmly, not quite able to reach his eyes. He snorts but doesn't make further comment.

"Look, if you don't ask her soon, someone else _will_," he says matter-of-factly. Coming from anyone else, that would sound like a threat or a challenge, but Sean is Aria's brother, so I highly doubt that's how it's supposed to sound.

"What am I supposed to say?" I ask, frustrated and annoyed. I'm tired of Sean's pestering.

"The truth?" he suggests, rolling his eyes.

"What if she doesn't feel the same way?" I ask again, feeling my stomach tie itself into knots.

"Laugh it off. Say it was all a joke. Remember last year when I asked Karen out?" Sean says, and I almost laugh at the memory of Karen's stunned face right after he asked her. She'd been totally blindsided. The sad fact was, she'd been sort of flirting with Sean for months, and we later learned it was because she'd fancied _me _and had been trying to make me jealous. _That_ had been an awkward moment.

"I don't know if I could pull it off," I say uncertainly, chewing on my bottom lip. Sean sighs and takes a long gulp of his butterbeer.

"You'll never know if you don't _go over there and ask her_," he says, glaring at me now.

"No," I sigh, glancing over at Aria again. "I can't. I mean, what if she says yes, and two months from now, we break up? I don't want to ruin my friendship with her, Sean. She's my best friend. I can't just throw that away for something that _might_ work out. I can't take that risk," I say decisively. I look over to see Aria watching me. I manage a weak smile at her, which she returns quickly before joining her friends' conversation once more.

"You're hopeless," Sean groans. He gets up and meanders over to where Mike Carson and Aiden Mydlin are talking to Brian Foster. I sit there by myself, mulling over the conversation we've just shared.

Sean is convinced that I should ask Aria out. And quite frankly, the thought terrifies me. What's the worst that could happen, Sean asks? My friendship with Aria could be ruined forever – _that's_ the worst that could happen. And I can't risk that. It's not as simple as Sean thinks.

"Hey!"

I look up to see Aria has joined me. I smile at her over the top of my butterbeer.

"What's the matter? You look so sad," she says, flashing me a smile that makes my stomach do back flips.

"I'm fine," I insist. "Just … thinking."

"About what?" she asks curiously, leaning forward slightly. The scent of her shampoo or perfume or whatever it is that makes her smell so intoxicating wafts toward me, making me dizzy with pleasure.

"Life."

"Gee, that's specific," she says sarcastically, leaning back again. I smile at her.

"It's not that important," I lie easily. She gives me a skeptical look.

"If it wasn't important, would you honestly be sitting here thinking about it?" she asks. I think we've known each other too long. She can read me like a book.

"I just don't feel like talking about it," I say somewhat truthfully. She gives me an understanding smile. Another reason to adore her – if you honestly don't want to talk about something, she's not going to pester you for information the way Skyla does.

"Come join the party," she says, holding out her hand to me. "We only have a few more days left here. We might as well enjoy ourselves."

I smile and take her hand, feeling a spark of electricity shoot all the way up my arm as I do so. I notice her glance at me before quickly letting go. She gives me a smile and leads me over to where Harry is leaning against his desk, talking to Sean with a grin on his face.

"Hey you two," he says as we join them. I smile slightly. "Only one week left," he says, a twisted sort of smile on his face. I manage a grimace back.

"Yeah…" Aria says softly. "Only one week."

"Still determined to become the best Healer in England?" he asks, grinning at her. She gives him a mock-confused look.

"Best in England? I was going for best in Europe!" she exclaims, laughing. I smile at her, and Sean and Harry laugh as well.

"What about you, Sean? Decided which team you're playing for yet?" he asks.

Sean shakes his head. "No. They're all killing each other over me – it's kinda cool." We all laugh at that. What I would give to have a dozen Quidditch teams fighting over my skills on the pitch.

"I think you should play for Ireland," I say, grinning at him. He scowls at me. I've been badgering him about this for awhile now – ever since the Ireland team scout approached him at the end of one of our matches a few months ago. It's my way of getting back at him for bugging me about Aria.

"Dad thinks you should play for the Chudley Cannons," Aria says, barely concealing a grin. Sean groans, and Harry bursts out laughing.

"Even with _you_ on their team, they would _never_ win," he says, still chuckling.

"Tell Dad that," Sean mutters darkly. "It's gonna break his heart when I tell him I'm not playing for them."

"I'd suggest the Holyhead Harpies if Karen wasn't going to play for them. She'd probably kill you for even considering it, since she's decided her main goal in life is to make the Harpies and all-women team again," I say, smiling at the thought of Sean as a _harpy_. I glance over at Karen to make sure she isn't listening. She's still deep in conversation Kelsey, so I think I'm safe.

"So do you have _any_ idea?" Professor Potter asks Sean. He just shrugs.

"I don't know. Ireland's an awfully good team, but I've never been a very big fan of them," he says. "And it's like Jake said – if I wanted to play for the Harpies, Karen would murder me. I don't know." Sean's shoulders slump with a sigh.

"The Scotland Shooters are looking better this season," Aria comments lightly, and I have to suppress a laugh. Ever since Ron took the three of us to a Shooters game two years ago, Aria has been a diehard fan, completely convinced that they're going to the World Cup soon. With Sean on their team, they probably could.

"Yeah," Sean agrees, smiling at her. "They are. And unfortunately for me, their manager is one of the only teams around here that _hasn't_ come to visit me yet," he sighs. Aria's face falls slightly, but she shrugs it off easily.

"Well, don't you worry too much about it," she says reassuringly. "You need to focus on the fact that we have a huge match in _four_ days!"

Sean smiles at that, as does Harry. Their infectious happiness gets to me eventually and I let a grin spread across my face as well. Within minutes, though none us were quite sure why, we're all laughing, clutching our sides in agony.

x.x

Harry's POV

Spending time with my best friend's kids makes me fully realize just how Sirius felt when he was spending time with me when I was younger. But it's not really all that bad – Sean and Aria – and Jake of course – are great kids.

It must be hard for Jake, listening to his best friends talk about what they're going to do with their lives. I know he still doesn't have any clue as to what he's going to do, and listening to Aria go on and on about Healer training can't make him feel too great. Poor kid.

I smile at all the seventh years gathered in my office for this little party tonight. They've all worked so hard the last seven years to get where they are now, and no one could be prouder of their progress than me. It's the same with every batch of graduates I say good-bye to. I see them coming into my house as tiny little eleven-year-old kids, terrified of making one wrong move or answering one question incorrectly, and seven years later they're standing with their heads high, ready to go out in the world and make something of themselves.

This group of seventh years is a bit different than the others though. Not just because of Aria, Jake, and Sean, although that plays a big role in it. These nine kids have worked so incredibly hard and have never once given me a reason to regret becoming the Head of Gryffindor. Oh sure, they've given me cheek and thrown parties that have awoken half the school (although I have to admit, before McGonagall showed up, I was enjoying myself quite a bit at said party…), but they're not rebellious or cruel. They're just normal seventeen- and eighteen-year-old kids.

These kids are like family to me – hell, Sean and Aria actually _are_ family, and Jake might as well be. Skyla's spent so many summers at my house with the others that she could just about be family as well. And all of the other kids are just wonderful – most of them are on the Quidditch team this year, which is a huge advantage over Hufflepuff, seeing as most of their seventh years can't play to save their lives, so the captain had to resort to second, third, and fourth years while picking the team this year.

Out of the nine seventh years I have this year, I'm more than proud to say that five of them make up the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Sean, Aria, and Karen have all been on the team as Chasers since their second year, Jake joined as a Beater in his third year, and Aria recruited Mike Carson as the other Beater two years ago after seeing him demonstrate how Muggle baseball works.

The other two members of the team are Alex Marstin, who's a wiry sixth year with a real talent for Keeping, and Elizabeth Vemborrow, Karen's thirteen-year-old cousin, who's speedy and precise – a new addition to the team this year, but a wonderful Seeker.

Now I watch as Aria, Jake, and Sean join their fellow classmates again in the conversations. They joke and laugh and talk seriously, and it makes me sad to see yet another great group of seventh years go. In four days, the Gryffindor Quidditch team will take on the Hufflepuffs (and, most likely, kick their sorry butts), and two days after that, they'll be boarding the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

x.x

Jake's POV

I awake once again to the persistently annoying sound of Aria's screeching. Moaning, I bury my head under my pillow to try to block out the noise. For the last three days, Aria has awoken us at five o'clock, insisting we need to practice hard to beat Hufflepuff in this afternoon's match. Like we even need to practice. We'll beat them easy enough.

"Jacob Alexander Parks, get your sorry arse down here _right now_!" Aria screams. Reluctantly I pull my head out and peek around the dorm. I'm shocked to see I'm the only one still in bed. Aiden is the only other one in here, sniggering as he watches me. I glare at him and turn my eyes to the clock.

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" I nearly shout. It's already eleven thirty! The match doesn't start until one, but the team still has to eat and let our food settle a bit before we can go out flying (according to Aria anyway). I jump out of bed and throw on a pair of Muggle jeans and one of the few clean shirts I have left, neglecting my school robes completely. I glance in the mirror on my way out and rake a hand through my hair. No use. It just stands up even more. Oh well.

"Jake!" Aria screams once more. I jog down the staircase to see her standing at the bottom, already clad in her Quidditch robes – of course – with a furious expression on her face. She glares at me as I walk down to her, and despite her obvious anger, I feel my stomach constrict at her beauty. _Control yourself,_ I tell myself angrily. Taking a deep breath, I smile charmingly as I reach the bottom step. She looks up at me disapprovingly.

"I told you to be awake at _ten thirty,_ Jake," she says coldly. "And usually you're one of the first people up _anyway_," she adds darkly. I grimace guiltily.

"I know, Aria. I'm sorry," I say sincerely. A sliver of a smile manages to make its way across her face, and the urge to kiss her right here is stronger than ever. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her hair, to hold her. A sudden awkwardness descends over us, and for a moment I almost wonder if she expects me to do something, but the moment passes, and she smiles tensely at me.

"Well, you're awake now. Not dressed, but awake," she says, eyeing my Muggle apparel somewhat disapprovingly. I grin and wrap my arm around her shoulder, forcing her into an about-face.

"Beggars can't be choosers," I tell her. She smiles and slips out of my arms as we pass through the portrait hole. I feel a sudden loss and long to wrap my arm around her again, but I control the feeling.

.x.

At a quarter to one, we make our way down to the pitch. Aria is telling poor Liz (our Seeker) once again that she _must wait_ until we're at least forty points up before catching the snitch. Liz nods patiently and smiles, and I admire her patience. If I were her, I would probably have left Aria standing there talking to thin air by now.

Right as we arrive at the changing rooms, the rest of the school starts down the lawn toward the stadium. I feel the faintest flutter of nervousness in my stomach, but I ignore it.

"Okay, team!" Aria barks, shutting the door firmly behind us. The noise of the crowd mutes considerably, and we fall silent. "Listen up! We are going to _pummel_ those Hufflepuffs, you understand me?" We all nod obediently. You'd have to be either really stupid or really brave to contradict Aria when she goes into "Captain" mode.

"Liz, what's your job?" she asks Elizabeth once more. Liz looks like she's fighting an internal battle, trying to decide whether to roll her eyes or be Aria's little protégé. She chooses the latter.

"Keep the Hufflepuff Seeker from getting the Snitch until we're at least forty points up, after which time I should make every effort possible to make sure _I_ catch the Snitch, not Daniel Rothums," she recites. Aria smiles at her, and she looks relieved.

"Jake, Mike, what do you do?" she asks, turning to us. I glance at Mike and feign confusion.

"I dunno. Mike, what do I do with this?" I ask, holding up my Beater's bat. Mike catches on, and his expression melts into a blank stare.

"Um... I dunno, why are you asking me?" he asks, widening his eyes and looking around wildly.

"Well you _are _the better Beater on this team," I say mock-sternly.

"I'm on the team? The _Quidditch _team?!" asks Mike, his eyes widening theatrically as he looks around at us all. "_Seriously?_" he stage-whispers. I grin at him. Aria gives us a little sardonic smile.

"Enough."

"We know what to do, Aria," I assure her, winking. "We've been practicing for this moment for months."

"Good. And Alex?"

"Make sure that _none_ of those incompetent Hufflepuff Chasers get the Quaffle through our hoops!" Alex chirrups passionately. He has a huge crush on Aria, and has been trying to win her affections since we were in fifth year (when he was a fourth year). So far, I don't think he's succeeded, but he earns himself a smile.

"And Sean, Karen, and I will just do the rest. Alright, team, let's go!"

We troop out onto the pitch, and Aria shakes hands with the Hufflepuff Captain, a seventh year named Dan Forrester that we're actually really good friends with. He grins challengingly at Aria as they break apart.

"You're going down, Weasley," he says. Aria just grins. I still think it's funny how people call her Weasley ever since they found out that she and Sean are siblings. They call her Granger too – it just depends which occurs to them first. On the Quidditch pitch though, it's always Weasley, because most of the Weasleys have played Quidditch, and Aria's mum was awful at Quidditch, so Aria's always made sure to associate herself with the legendary Weasley players.

"You wish, Danny boy," she replies as she swings her leg over the handle of her top-of-the-line broomstick. "You wish."

* * *

**A/N**: Next chapter, the fate-determining Quidditch match! Dun, dun, DUNNNN!!


	3. Fate Determining Quidditch and Torture

**A/N**: Chapter threeeeee!! Three's my favorite number you know. Just a quick note – instead of writing 'Jake's POV' or 'Aria's POV', we're just going with Jake or Aria. Much easier on me. :)

* * *

**Chapter Three: "Fate-Determining" Quidditch and "Torture"**

Jake

The Quidditch match is extremely fast-paced. Not as fast as professional Quidditch, but pretty damn close. Although, that could be because we have three practically-professional Chasers on our team. The ball flies back and forth between Sean, Aria, and Karen so fast that it's a blur, and the Hufflepuff players are straining just to keep up with them, let alone trying to actually _take_ the ball.

Their Beaters aren't doing much better – Mike and I are actually just having fun with the Bludgers today, because the other team's Chasers are so bad that we don't have to worry about trying to unseat them – we're just distracting the other Beaters instead, and having a blast with it.

Liz is patrolling above us, keeping her eyes peeled for the snitch. It wouldn't matter if they caught it anyway – the score is two hundred and twenty to ten, and the only reason they got the Quaffle for that one goal was because Aria sneezed and dropped it, which ruined the play she'd set up for her pass to Sean. Then, when the lucky Hufflepuff Chaser went to shoot the goal, Alex couldn't block it because both of the Beaters had simultaneously shot a Bludger at him, and he had to shoot upward to avoid being beheaded. It was actually pretty hilarious.

I watch idly as Mike hits the Bludger in the general direction of the Hufflepuff goal hoops, and both of their Beaters shoot after it to protect their Keeper, even though the little black ball won't come anywhere near him.

I laugh and turn to watch Aria twirl around one of the Hufflepuff Chasers – a second year – and throw the Quaffle to Karen mid-spiral. The Hufflepuff kid is caught off-guard by the red blur zooming past his head, and he almost unseats himself, but at the last minute grabs the handle of his broom for support. It almost makes you feel sorry for the poor guy.

Karen passes the ball to Sean, who speeds to the hoops and launches it through the center one, right over the head of the Keeper, whose attention is currently fixed on his Beater slugging the Bludger back toward the Gryffindor end. How the Hufflepuffs made it this far in the season is still beyond me.

Just then a loud cheer erupts from the Hufflepuff supporters and I turn to see the Seeker – a scrawny fourth year named Daniel Rothums – diving toward the ground, a determined look on his face. Liz is quick though, and she's on his tail in a flash. Soon they're neck-and-neck. Everyone can see that neither of them will pull out of that dive fast enough if they go through with it. As the ground looms up at them, Dan suddenly falters and jerks sideways and up, his confidence failing him at the last possible second.

Liz, though, she's never once disappointed Aria, which is why the team has nick-named her as Aria's little protégé. She speeds up even more as the dive becomes steeper. Just when everyone is sure she's about to slam into the ground and quite possibly break every bone in her body, Liz does the most amazing thing I've ever seen. She leaps off her broom and grabs the Snitch out of the air. Instantly she curls into a ball, does a _flip_ in mid-air, and lands with her feet firmly on the ground and raises both hands in triumph. Everyone erupts into frenzied cheering, and I see some Quidditch scouts in the teacher section nudging each other and pointing to Liz, obviously extremely impressed. Who can blame them?

We descend on her and raise her up on our shoulders. She waves the snitch above her head victoriously as the Hufflepuff team walks off the field dejectedly. A wave of scarlet-and-gold clad people move toward us, screaming and shouting and cheering at her spectacular catch. I still don't quite believe it myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a bunch of Quidditch representatives elbowing their way toward Sean, Karen, Liz, and Aria. They pull the four of them aside, upsetting Liz's fan club by making them put her down. Before I can catch what anyone says, however, the crowd starts moving toward the castle, and I'm swept away with them.

x.x

Aria

We won! The Gryffindors carry the others off on their shoulders, while I'm trapped with some more Quidditch scouts. I do my best to smile politely, just in case there are photographers around, because Dad would kill me for ending up on the front page of any newspaper with a big scowl on my face.

"Congratulations, Weasley!" Dave Harris – the manager of the Holyhead Harpies – says jubilantly, clapping his left hand on my shoulder and shaking my right hand rigorously with his own. I smile up at him, not bothering to correct him on my name (because technically, that _is _my name).

"I was expecting something great from your team today, and I was not disappointed!" he exclaims, still pumping my arm up and down.

"Oh, most certainly!" another voice cuts in. I look up to see Allan Jargan, the scout and Captain for the Ireland team. He's only twenty-one, just over three years older than me, and I have to grin at him. He was Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team when I was a third year and he was a sixth year, and he graduated when I was a fourth year, but he brought us to two consecutive Cups.

"Hey, Al," I say happily. He grins at me and hugs me.

"I always knew you'd be amazing," he says fondly, and I smile up at him. "Still short though," he comments, looking down at me from his towering height. I've always been rather short – Al is a good two heads taller than me – but I'm alright with that.

"Of course," I say, agreeing to his statement of my amazingness. "I learned from the best."

He shakes his head at me, still grinning. "Still won't accept my offer though?" he asks, suddenly serious. "You know, you could still be a Healer. You could train and study in the off-season and nights when we don't have matches. You'd take the World Cup for Ireland for the first time since 1994!" he exclaims.

I smile at his lavish praise. "I'm sorry, Al. My answer is still no."

He sighs. "You sure?" he asks seriously. "Because I'm dead serious. My manager is willing to pay–"

"I'm not interested in the pay," I interrupt. "I'm sorry, Al. But I'm not changing my mind."

"Aria, come on!" he says, getting angry now. "What a waste of talent! To be sitting in a gloomy hospital all day taking care of sick people is like hell compared to being able to fly through the clouds and the thrill of every match, every competition, every win!" he says passionately. There's fire in his eyes, and I can see why he's Captain, despite the fact that he's the youngest guy on the team. If I wasn't so determined to turn down his offer, I'd be more than willing to follow anyone with that kind of passion for his job.

"I'm sorry," I say again, a bit more sincerely. He just sighs, his anger fading as quickly as it had come.

"I wish there was a way to change your mind," he says glumly. I just smile sadly.

"Sorry," I murmur again. He shakes his head at me.

"Sean!" he says suddenly, looking over my head. His face breaks into a grin.

"Hey, Al," Sean says with a smile. "Ireland's looking pretty good this year."

"We'd be even better with your sister on the team," Al mutters darkly, casting me a good-natured scowl. I smile sweetly at him. "But!" he exclaims, clapping his hands together, "That isn't what I want to talk about with you!"

He slings a friendly arm over Sean's shoulder. Sean looks up at him in amusement.

"_You_ my friend, have some serious talent as well. And you have yet to accept any offers brought forth. My manager is willing to pay you…"

I tune them out as they turn away to talk salary. The manager, Captain, and team scout for the Holyhead Harpies are talking to Karen and Liz. I'm sure they're all telling Liz how spectacular her catch was. She's just eating up the attention. In four years, there's no doubt there will be a place on the Harpies' team for her. The only problem will be all of the other teams in Europe will be fighting tooth and nail for her. She's good – really good. By the time she's seventeen, she'll be better than I ever was. I'm so proud of her.

As I walk alone across the Quidditch pitch, I turn a deaf ear to all of the scouts trying to tag along with me, giving one last go at trying to convince me to join their team. I'm about to go into the changing room when someone catches my arm. I turn to see a handsome man with blonde hair and a friendly smile. He releases my arm and smiles charmingly.

"Can I help you?" I ask politely.

"My name is Isaac Morrow," he says. He has a strong American accent.

"Okay…" I say, not knowing why this should be important.

"I'm a Chaser and Captain for the Los Angeles Lions Quidditch team in California," he offers, and I feel my smile disappear.

"Before you say no, I want you to hear me out," he says quickly, obviously seeing my expression.

I nod at him curtly.

"My manager is willing to pay triple on the highest salary you were offered. He'd let you pick and choose which matches you wanted to play in depending on the convenience for you. We already have three Chasers, but with you we'd rotate each match – or depending on who could or wanted to play when. You could take off as much time as you wanted, permitted you attend a minimum of three practices a week.

"I know you want to become a Healer, and our manager respects that. You'd be more than able to do that. We could work out a training schedule so that you could still study and go to Healer training classes. Emily Smith, our Seeker, is a fully trained Auror, and _that_ is a serious commitment, but she went through all the training and classes while she was training with us, so it's perfectly possible. She has an alternate for when she's working, but with you we wouldn't need the alternate at all. So you see? We have a great deal to offer."

His offer is tempting. And he's smiling at me in such a way – so sincerely – that he makes me feel … pretty. I smile back.

"Your offer is … it's the best I've received so far," I admit, and he beams. "But it isn't about the money or the fact that I could train to be a Healer while I'm on the team. It's not even about the fact that California is like, almost half-way around the world and that's much too far away from my family for me to be happy."

"Then what is it?" he asks seriously, and I get the feeling he honestly wants to know.

"I just …" I trail off uncomfortably. How can I possibly explain this to someone who doesn't even know me? Quidditch is a _dangerous_ sport. I love it, but I've been in and out of the hospital wing so many times in the last six years that I may have actually set a school record rivaling the great Harry Potter's. And what kind of example would I set as a Healer if I came to work every other week with new scars and bruises and healing broken bones?

Besides, I _would _have to travel all over the world for matches, hauling my books along with me to study. I'd never see my family unless we had matches around here. I couldn't do that.

"I just … it's not the life I want," I say simply. Isaac cocks his head and studies me for a few seconds.

"This is off the record, and I'm saying this as another human being rather than a fellow Quidditch player, but I'm glad you didn't accept. I could see it in your eyes that you wouldn't, but I have to tell my manager when I get back that I tried my hardest to convince you, and I don't like lying to him. I can see that this isn't what you want. I can also see that you love the game, and that's great. I bet you'll be a great Healer someday. So if I'm ever playing in London, and someone tries to take me out, I'll know who to ask for at the hospital," he says with a wink. I smile at him.

"Thanks, Isaac," I say. He claps me on the shoulder.

"Good luck, kid. If you're ever in L.A., look me up," he says, squeezing my shoulder before letting go. He smiles at me in that same way that makes my stomach flutter pleasantly. I manage a smile back before he turns to leave. He walks away with his head held high and goes over to join Al and Sean's conversation.

I head into the changing room and take off my Quidditch robes for the last time. I hang them up and look them sadly. It's finally starting to sink in. The day after tomorrow I'll be getting on that train one more time, and then it's over. In three weeks I start Healer training.

I pull on my school robes over the jeans and t-shirt I threw on this morning. Grabbing my broom, I start back up to the school for the party in Gryffindor Common Room that is most likely in full swing by now.

As I walk up the sloping lawn toward the castle, I take my time, enjoying one of the last afternoons I'll have the leisure to stroll the Hogwarts grounds. I look at all of the things I've taken for granted the last seven years, and I feel a now-familiar lump rise in my throat.

Down by the lake, the trees rustle softly in the slight breeze, and I can see the tentacles of the Giant Squid playing just below the surface of the still water. On the other side of the castle, I know the Whomping Willow is either thrashing around wildly or standing innocently by, just waiting for some poor person or animal to wander too close.

The Forbidden Forest is still as dark and mysterious as ever. The only time I can ever remember going in there was for Care of Magical Creature classes as a fifth year when we studied Thestrals. Other than that, I've pretty much kept clear of it. I'm used to forests, since there's a huge one behind our house, but this one is just creepy.

I still don't like thinking about Thestrals too much. They're weird, and as great as Hagrid thinks they are, I find them almost as creepy as the Forbidden Forest itself. They're eyes are just pupil-less white, and they have fangs. I've seen them hundreds of time at home, and as long as they keep their distance, I don't mind them much, but that doesn't mean I want to keep one of them as a pet anytime soon.

By the time I reach the front doors of the castle, the high I had from the victory over Hufflepuff is starting to wear off. I feel as though a heavy weight is pushing down on me, and there are tears pressing at the back of my eyes, though I'm not quite sure why.

With a heavy heart, I make my way up to the seventh floor and start down the corridor leading to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady smiles at me when she spots me.

"I heard the good news," she says. I grin at her half-heartedly.

"Go Lions," I say with less enthusiasm that I probably should have, considering we just won the Cup and all.

"Indeed," she agrees to the password, and her portrait swings open to a wave of noise that makes me wince. Upon spotting me, the noise level in the Common Room rises, and I'm all but dragged through the portrait hole.

"Aria!" Mike calls. He drags me over and gives me a great big hug. I laugh at him and hug him back. We've gotten to be really good friends over the few years. He's so great.

Everyone else calls things to me and before I know it, I'm enveloped into the center of the crowd, and my broomstick is laid out in a place of honor across two of the tables that aren't covered in stolen food and butterbeer. The happy atmosphere in the room is contagious, and before I know it, I'm grinning with everyone else.

"Aria!" I hear a familiar voice call. I turn to grin at Harry. He's waving at me with his bottle of butterbeer, and I struggle through the crowd over to him and he gives me a one-armed hug.

"You did great out there!" he exclaims.

"Not as great as Liz though," I admit. He nods and grins.

"That's true! That girl is amazing!"

Just then there's a roar and we turn to see Sean, Karen, and Liz struggling through the portrait hole. I'm about to make my way toward them when I feel a familiar touch at my elbow and my pulse takes off double time.

I turn to see Jake smiling at me, and my stomach flutters ten times worse than it ever did when Isaac Morrow smiled at me.

"You were great today," he calls loudly over the crowd. I wait for him to hug me like Mike and Harry and just about everyone else has, but he doesn't, and I feel an overwhelming pang of disappointment. He simply smiles at me in that dazzling way that could make me melt if that's what it was intended to do.

"You too," I joke, knowing he and Mike didn't do anything except mess with the other Beaters' minds. But I know he had fun doing it. He's a great sport like that.

"Oh yeah," he says sarcastically, and I laugh.

"We should probably go congratulate Liz on her great save," I say almost reluctantly. I'd much rather spend the night just sitting around talking to Jake, but I honestly do want to tell Liz how great she was.

He agrees, and we struggle over to them, only to find Liz has been kidnapped by her own friends, and there's absolutely no way to get anywhere near her. Sean is busy giving his sixth year girls fan club a play-by-play recap of the game, and Skyla is hanging all over Aiden, who she's been not-so-secretly admiring since Sean rejected her two years ago (though anyone with eyes could see who she really wants).

I catch Jake's eye and silently motion toward the portrait hole and the dormitory stairs with my eyes. He nods, looking relieved, and grabs my arm so we don't get separated by the pressing crowd. He leads me across the Common Room only to find the exit through the portrait hole clogged by fifth years. Looking annoyed, he pulls me toward the boys' dormitory staircase.

I notice some people eyeing us and nudging each other when they spy us practically sneaking upstairs, but Harry sees us and doesn't look concerned. It almost bothers me that Harry doesn't think Jake and me alone in a dormitory is anything to be worried about, but I try not to dwell on it too much.

The boys' dormitory is a disaster zone. There are clothes strewn all over the floor, the trunks are open and overflowing, and there's a weird _smell_… some strange mixture between socks and sugar quills. Jake shoves some dirty clothes under his bed with his foot and sits down on top of the unmade bedding. It's funny, because our dormitory is always neat and tidy – the house elves went on strike for the boys in fourth year, but they _love_ us. We leave them cookies. Which is ironic really, because we get the cookies from the kitchens. Oh well, it's the thought that counts.

I sit down gingerly beside him and sigh. He looks at me in concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just glad to be out of that crowd," I say half-truthfully. He nods.

"Me too. Is that all? You're quieter than usual," he comments.

"I'm just sad. We only have two days left," I say softly, looking up at him. He smiles sadly.

"Yeah," he murmurs.

Against my will, I feel tears fill my eyes as once again the realization slams into me. I feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me.

"I just … I can't believe we're never coming back," I whisper. "And that in two days we're going to be out there in the real world, and we'll be on our own. I'm … scared," I admit. He sighs, and I look back up at him again.

"Me too," he says quietly, locking eyes with me. In that moment, I almost believe he's going to kiss me. I even lean in a little, just so he'll know I'm okay with it. More than okay with it. The desire is burning a hole in my gut.

Instead he just sighs once more and rakes a hand through his dark brown – nearly black – hair, making it stick up even more than it had been before. I smile at him and he looks at me in confusion.

"What?" he asks, smiling back in a slightly confused way. I simply reach up and smooth his unruly hair down, something I've wanted to do for a very long time. His hair is just as soft and touchable as I'd imagined, and I feel a thrill of excitement as I run my fingers through it to flatten it. He takes a hold of my wrist and brings my hand back down, out of his hair.

"Aria," he says seriously, still holding my wrist. Feeling slightly unsettled, I look back at him in confusion.

"Jake?" I ask.

He sighs once more and lets go of me. I feel a weird lurch in my chest. A _twang_ of my heartstrings if you will. Not a good _twang_ either. The look on his face makes me want to cry.

"I…" he stops, takes a deep breath, bites his lip. He looks so adorable when he does that.

"What is it?" I ask rather urgently. I wish he'd take my hand again. Or at least look at me.

"We … I'm sorry," he says at last with some difficulty.

"For what?" I ask, relieved and disappointed. I'd been expecting something a little bigger than _I'm sorry_ for all the painstaking waiting I've been doing for the last thirty seconds or so.

"I'm sorry that I …" he bites his lip again, and the urge to kiss him is stronger than ever.

"I'm sorry that I tortured you," he says at last, still not looking at me.

"What?" I ask, confused. "Torture?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I tortured you."

"When did you torture me?" I ask, feeling rather slow.

"Right now!" he exclaims, pouncing on me and tickling me. I shriek as I squirm away from him. Having grown up with me for the last seven years or so, he knows where _all_ of my ticklish spots are.

I try to get away from him by rolling off the side of the bed and leaping across the room, but he follows me with a grin on his face. I try to dart around him, but he grabs me round the waist and practically throws me down on Sean's bed to resume the "torture".

I laugh hysterically. He knows me too well. I actually hate being tickled, and if it were Skyla, Dad, Sean, or anyone else, I'd have gotten mad and told them to lay off before they even really got started. But I'm just so happy to have Jake smiling and have his hands on me and his arms around me that I don't mind the _torture_ so much.

The only problem is, I wonder what he was _really_ going to say before he decided to cover it up with our game.

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**A/N**: There you go! Hope you like it! Please review!


	4. Facing Fears and Voicing Dreams

**Disclaimer**: Even though I'm not J.K. Rowling and I obviously don't own Harry Potter, I'm okay with that. Because if I were J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't write fanfiction, and I love writing fanfiction.

**A/N**: Here we go chapter four! Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed last few chapters – you all rock! Happy reading!

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**Chapter Four: Facing Fears and Voicing Dreams**

Jake

I almost told her. I almost told Aria how I felt about her right there and then when she put her hand in my hair. Merlin, I've never felt anything like that before. When she touched my hair … it was like my heart suddenly decided to do the conga in my chest or something. I can't believe I almost told her.

But sitting on top of her, pinning her down, tickling her to death, well, that's not a bad consolation prize. For one thing, she's not nearly as strong as she'd like everyone to think – at least not compared to me – so she's not getting any headway trying to push me off of her. For another, her laughter is infectious and beautiful. She's panting and still giggling, a huge grin on her face.

It almost surprises me that she's not glaring at me, telling me to get the hell off of her like she would if it were Sean tickling her. She hates being tickled, which is unfortunate, since she's so ticklish.

I stop tickling for a few seconds and she just lies there staring up at me, panting and grinning at me. If I wanted to kiss her – which I do, _so _badly – right now would be the opportune moment. Instead, I grin back.

"You're powerless against me awesome tickling powers," I tell her, and she laughs, making the hairs on my neck stand up.

"You wish," she says, though so far I haven't seen any evidence otherwise. I tell her so, and she grins.

"Oh yeah?" she says, half sitting up, which probably isn't easy considering I'm sitting on her stomach. Her face is mere inches from mine. I can feel her breath on my face, and my chest constricts in longing. I try to control myself as she stares at me, try to ignore the sudden desire burning through me.

"Yeah," I manage, the word barely escaping my mouth in a rush of air. If I knew anything, I would take her right there and kiss her until my mouth stopped working in protest. But I don't. I just stare into those beautiful blue eyes and will myself to hold it together at least until she decides to leaves the room.

For one blissful moment I actually believe she's going to kiss me. For just a fraction of a second, I allow myself to hope. But then she does something that shocks me. She puts her hands on my shoulders and in one swift movement, knocks me flat on my back and jumps on top of me. She sits on my chest and pins my arms down with her knees. I'm so surprised that it doesn't even occur to me to fight back.

"What…?" I ask, flabbergasted. She laughs.

"You think you're so tough," she giggles. I grin at her, and her smile falters.

"That's 'cause I am!" I exclaim, throwing her off me in a burst of energy. She squeaks in surprise but jumps up almost instantly, putting the bed between us. I grin at her as evilly as I can manage and she eyes me apprehensively.

I launch myself over the bed and she shrieks again and runs across the room. I chase her in a circle, around and over the beds. Her laughter fills the room as I chase her. I might be bigger and stronger than her, but damn it, she's fast! The only advantage I have is that I'm used to navigating the mess on the floor and she's not, so she has to step more carefully.

We run in circles until I finally corner (I don't know, can you corner someone in a corner-less room?) her. She backs flat against the wall, eyeing me and giggling. I smile at her devilishly.

"You're trapped now," I tell her. She just shakes her head at me.

"What do you mean no?" I demand.

Suddenly she jumps around me. I barely catch the sleeve of her robe, which slows her down some, but she rips out of my grasp again. I take a giant leap over some of Aiden's dirty underwear and manage to tackle her. She screams with laughter and scrambles up again. I grab her round the ankles and she tumbles down onto the floor again. I pounce on her, but in a sudden bout of strength, she rolls the both of us over so she has the upper hand. We go back and forth like that for half a minute, rolling around across dirty clothes and smelly socks. Eventually we roll all the way across the room.

Finally, Aria's strength fails her and when I roll to the top again, she sags in defeat and stares up at me, her body completely limp.

"You win," she gasps, her breath coming in short pants.

"I always do," I inform her. I try not to take notice of how closely we're pressed together, lying on the bare wooden floor of my dormitory. My arms are tired from wrestling with her, and I'm lying on top of her, only propped up by my elbows. Our faces are close together, but I'm too tired to sit up any further. We lie like that for awhile, staring at each other, panting. I'd hate for anyone to walk in on us right now.

"I think…" she starts, only to trail off, not looking at me. I think I know what she's trying to say, but I pretend I don't, if only to prolong the feeling of her body pressed against mine.

"Maybe…" she tries again, but she doesn't finish.

I know I have to get off of her, and not just because if someone walked in on us, they would almost instantly get a very _wrong_ impression of what we've been doing up here. There's also the fact that while I might not be able to admit how I feel about her aloud, the rest of me is more than willing, and I don't quite wish to share that with Aria just now.

I heave myself up on my slightly shaky arms – that girl can really fight when she wants to – and get up off the floor. She lies there a moment longer, staring up at me, just looking beautiful. Merlin, she's amazing.

I extend my hand to her, and she reaches up slowly and takes it. Trying to ignore the sudden tingling feeling that shoots up my arm at her touch, I pull her to her feet and attempt a smile at her. It must come out alright, because she smiles back.

"Two days," she whispers softly, looking around the messy room. "Only two days."

I don't have some smart aleck reply to that one. I nod and do what I know I really shouldn't do, considering everything my poor heart (and erm … _other_ regions) has just been through, but I can't help myself.

I take her into my arms and hug her. She snakes her hands up around my neck and hugs me tight. A few seconds later I feel hot wetness on my chest. She clings to me and cries, and the situation brings back a memory I shouldn't even have.

It was at her mum's memorial service, six years ago. It was before she'd known that Ron was her dad, before she'd come to live with us. I was supposed to be sitting down, listening to the service, but I had gotten up with the intention of going to see if Aria was alright. She'd been standing all alone with Ron in the front room of the funeral home, wrapped around his neck, sobbing her heart out. Only those tears, those cries, were so much worse than these, because that day, her heart had truly been breaking.

Now though, she cries because she's afraid. I'm scared too, of going out into the world I'd always thought was so separate from Hogwarts. Hell, I'm terrified. I hold her close and let her cry. I rest my forehead on the top of her head – that's how short she is – and close my eyes, simply enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapped around me.

"I'm so scared," she whispers, choking on a sob. I squeeze her tight.

"I know," I murmur.

"I don't want to leave," she says, and I feel her sadness and fear become my own.

"I know," I say again.

"This is silly," she sniffs, not showing any signs of actually letting go. "I'm not even moving out of Dad and Keira's house yet, and look at me. I'll probably be there all summer still," she laughs, and I smile, my eyes still closed, loving the sound of her laugh.

"I understand though," I say. "I'm scared too."

"Yeah," she sighs. She tilts her head back slightly, so I lift my forehead and open my eyes. She smiles at me, and I can't resist brushing a lone tear off her chin with my thumb. While my arm is still raised, she grabs onto my left wrist and turns it to look at the heavy gold watch Ron gave me for my seventeenth birthday last year.

"It's late," I say, taking notice of the time. She agrees.

"I should go," she says softly, not exactly looking like she wants to. I loosen my grip on her just a little, and her arms around my neck tighten in a quick hug. She releases me, and I reluctantly let her slip out of my arms.

"Good night, Jake," she whispers.

"Night," I manage.

I stand there, looking at the empty space in front of me forlornly as she opens the door behind me. I hear it close and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I think I love you," I whisper to the empty room.

x.x

Aria

I make my way downstairs where the party is still going on, only not quite as loudly as before. A lot of the younger students have gone to bed (or were sent to bed by Harry), leaving mostly fifth through seventh years and a handful of straggling third and fourth years that refused outright to got to bed while the party was still on.

When people notice that I've returned they all burst into applause and surround me once again to tell me how wonderfully I did today. I wave off their praise and go over to join Harry at the window overlooking the dark grounds.

"Hey," I say, leaning on the sill beside him. He glances at me and smiles.

"Did you have a good time with Jake?" he asks, raising his eyebrows knowingly. I blush and smile.

"As a matter of fact I did," I answer him. "After he finished torturing me anyway," I add with a grin. "He was tickling me," I answer in response to Harry's confused expression.

The smile slips off my face. I sigh and turn to look outside.

"You okay?" he asks in that weird fatherly way he's always had with me. So much so that when I was stupid and eleven I actually _believed_ he was my father.

"Yeah…" I sigh.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Two days," I murmur, addressing the most immediate problem. I can deal with my feelings for Jake later.

"Ah." That's all he says. _Ah_. What the hell is that supposed to mean?! He must notice my annoyed look because he decides to elaborate. "You're sad?" he guesses.

"And scared," I admit. "Scared that I'll never be as good as Mum was," I say, voicing this fear for the first time. This nagging, little fear that says I'm never going to make it as a Healer and maybe I should just _take_ that stupid Quidditch position that Isaac Morrow offered me because _damn_ that was a good offer!

Harry, however, is louder than that nagging fear. "Don't you _ever_ think that!" he says fiercely. "You can do anything you want to do, Aria, and I'm not just saying that because that's what adults are supposed to tell you – you're an adult yourself, so I doubt you need the 'You-can-be-anything-you-want-to-be' speech. But it's true! Anything you want to do in life, Aria, you can do it. You are one of the few people in the world that could. You're passion for Healing, for Quidditch, hell, for _life_ – those are the qualities that make it possible for you to do _anything_," he tells me, and I know he's not just saying that. He means it with all his heart.

"Thanks, Harry," I say softly, looking at him and smiling. He doesn't scold me for calling him Harry, which he most certainly would have if we were in a classroom setting or surrounded closely by other people. He just smiles back.

"I love you, Aria," he tells me, not for the first time I assure you. It comes as a pleasant surprise anyway – he usually avoids family mushiness at school.

"I know," I murmur.

x.x

Sean

I watch Aria and Harry from the midst of a bunch of sixth year girls that won't let me leave. I wish she'd come talk to me, or call me over to talk to her, so I can tell her the good news – Al conned me into playing for Ireland. I have to admit, seeing Isaac Morrow talking to Aria got me excited – everyone knows how good the Los Angeles Lions are, but when he came to talk to us, he never once mentioned anything about signing me. Just said that he'd tried convincing Aria, but he'd just joined the Failure Club in that department.

So I agreed to Al's deal. I start training with them July fifth. I can hardly wait.

Aria and Harry chat for awhile, then Aria makes her way across the Common Room toward the girls' staircase. Guess my news will just have to wait until tomorrow. When I saw her come downstairs from our dormitory, she looked like she'd been crying. I wonder why. Just a few minutes before that I could hear her laughter. I hope Jake wasn't a complete prat and told her that he knows she likes him, but that he doesn't want to risk their friendship by trying a relationship – I know from experience where that line would get him.

I sigh thinking about Skyla. I wish I hadn't hurt her like that. I wish I'd known then what I know now (wow, great use of an old cliché, huh?): When you tell a girl you don't want to ruin friendship with her by dating her, and if later, you realize that _damn it_ you _did_ like her, you don't get a second chance. Ever. I found this out last year when I suddenly realized why I wanted to kill Aiden every time Skyla smiled at him. I've never told anyone I fancy her – Jake would lecture me and tell me 'I-told-you-so' with a smug smirk. Aria would just sigh and roll her eyes in a 'what-an-idiot' expression. She does that a lot.

So, that said, I really hope Jake didn't screw up his chances with Aria, because in a few years I'm fully expecting him to become my brother-in-law. I disentangle myself from the gaggle of girls surrounding me and manage to avoid having to talk to Stephanie Fester, a fifth year girl with horrible acne and an unfortunate last name who has been in love with me since I was fourteen. Frankly, she scares the crap out of me.

I hurry up to the dormitory to find Jake lying on his bed, smiling serenely at the ceiling. Certainly not the expression you'd expect to find on someone who had just ruined it for himself with the girl he loves.

"You look happy," I comment, going to my bed and ripping off my robes and jeans. I unbutton my shirt and toss it to the ground. I know I really should pack my trunk, but I've got all day tomorrow for that.

"Yeah," Jake says. Wow. Great explanation. _Yeah._ Really original.

"Aria looked like she'd been crying when she came downstairs," I say hesitantly. Jake turns his eyes to me.

"She was," he says simply.

"Why?" I ask, going into protective-brother mode. I hate it when people make Aria cry.

"She was sad."

"No, really?" I snap sarcastically. He just smiles.

"She was sad about leaving Hogwarts," he tells me, and I relax instantly. Oh.

I nod in understanding. "You guys sounded like you were having a good time up here," I hint, and he rolls his eyes.

"We were just joking around."

I'm suddenly really grateful he didn't say 'fooling around' or 'messing around' or even 'playing around'. As much as I think Jake and Aria are perfect for each other and will one day end up married with about ten kids, I really don't want to know that sort of thing. Can you say _too much information_?

"Can you believe we're really leaving?" I ask softly. "In two days?"

"I know," he replies. "I wish I had a job lined up."

"You'll find something," I assure him.

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone? Not even Aria?" he asks, changing the subject suddenly, propping himself up on one elbow. I sit down and give him my full attention. If he's keeping it from Aria, it must be big.

"Of course," I answer instantly.

"I want to find my dad," he says quietly, looking around like he's afraid the castle will collapse after he says it aloud.

"Okay…" I say, not quite sure what this means.

"I need to find him, Sean. If only to prove to myself that he really doesn't want to be a part of my life," he says urgently. I nod. That at least, I can understand.

"You haven't told Aria?" I ask.

"I just started thinking about it after she left. I don't know. I mean, maybe it's impossible, but I have to _try_ don't I?"

"How are you going to tell her?" I'm all for Jake finding his dad, but I'm worried for Aria. She was looking forward to spending the summer with him and if he's traveling, looking for his dad…

"I haven't gotten that far yet," he sighs. "Do you think she'll be mad?"

Mad wouldn't even begin to describe what she'd be. Heartbroken, dismayed, furious – those are some adjectives that come to mind. "Yeah, a little," I say, going for a half-truth.

"I need to find him, Sean," he says again. "I just have to."**

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A/N**: Two words: sexual tension (between Jake and Aria, obviously, not Jake and Sean… which would be gross). Please review!


	5. Last Day of Gryffindor Togetherness

**A/N**: Thanks to all my great reviewers from last chapter! The numbers are slowly climbing, my friends! Oh yay! Okay, so I've been a bad girl and I have not been working on chapter eight as I should have been (I have up through chapter seven done), and instead have been working a future chapter that probably won't be out for an extremely long time now. I've been thinking it through, and I have feeling that this story is going to be _way_ longer than I originally thought, even with the length of most of the chapters. This one is shorter than average, which is why I'm probably posting chapter six tomorrow. So, happy reading to all my friends!

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**Chapter Five: A Last Afternoon of Gryffindor Togetherness**

Sean

The next morning, I awake to find Jake and I are the only ones left in the dormitory and that it smells weird … like … _clean_. I look around in confusion. The floor is … clean. Everyone's clothes are picked up, everyone's beds made…

I pinch myself to make sure I'm awake. Considering the sharp pain that suddenly appears on my arm, I conclude that I'm not in fact dreaming. Weird…

Jake snorts in his sleep, and I look over toward that end of the dormitory to see three trunks neatly lined up along the wall near the door. Confused, I look over to my three dormmates' empty bunks. What the heck is going on? We don't leave until tomorrow! Why is there packing going on?!

I leap out of bed and throw some jeans on – since classes ended at the beginning of the week, I've kind of abandoned all attempt at looking presentable in my school robes – and hunt for a clean shirt. Finally I find one – under the bed of all places – that doesn't smell as though I've worn it lately. I pull it on and shove my feet into shoes before heading down into the Common Room to figure out just what the meaning of this cleaning is.

Down in the Common Room, I find Aria, Skyla, Aiden, Mike, Brian Foster, Karen, and Kelsey commandeering the best seats in the house, spreading out as best as they can so no one unwelcome can come sit with them. Upon seeing me, Aria grins and lifts her feet out of Mike's lap so I can sit on the sofa between them where her legs had previously been barring the spot to all who dared approach.

"Hey," I say uncertainly, casting Skyla and Aiden a quizzical glance. They're squashed together in one of the comfy armchairs, Skyla looking perfectly comfortable draped across his lap horizontally, her feet sticking over one arm of the chair, her back leaning against the other. I try to ignore the fact that the sight of them together might just make me sick as I spot something that actually will.

"Oy!" I shout to Kelsey and Brian, who are in the middle of a very intense snogging session. They come apart with mild looks of surprise and irritation, and I give them my best exasperated look. Kelsey giggles apologetically and Brian mumbles something rude about "just being jealous". Which, as you already may know, is completely ridiculous.

Aria grins beside me as she plops her feet back down, her legs stretching across my lap, her feet resting on Mike's right knee. "Yeah, Sean. You're just jealous," she teases, pushing against my arm slightly. I just smile at her.

"So anyway," I say, looking back at Mike. "What's with the creepy clean dorm?"

Mike chuckles. "Oh that. We enlisted in some help from the lovely ladies to get cleaned up considering, you know, we're leaving tomorrow and everything."

"How did I sleep through that?" I wonder aloud. Skyla giggles suddenly, and I look over at her sharply.

"You should have seen yourself," she laughs, and I feel a flutter of irritation at her teasing. "You were out cold. Just lying there, _snoring _away like there was no tomorrow, hanging half off your bed!"

"I do not snore," I say indignantly, and I know for a fact that this is true. Aria and Jake have told me, and they live with me, don't they? She just grins and shakes her head.

"Whatever you say, Sean," she laughs. Aiden looks at her adoringly, and I make a face just to show them how disgusting they're being, not that either of them notices. Aria nudges me slightly though and gives me a look that plainly says, "It's your own fault so you have no right to be jealous." I glare at her, but drop the disgusted look, wondering as I do so how she knows I still fancy Skyla. Then again, she _does_ live with me.

We sit around talking, doing our best to avoid anything that has to do with the fact that this is our last full day of Hogwarts _ever_, until about eleven thirty, when Jake comes ambling downstairs, his hair sticking up every which way, his clothes rumpled. He blinks at us and searches for a place to sit. I don't know if anyone else notices this, but I see the way his eyes linger on the small space between Aria and me as though wondering whether there's any way he'd fit there.

"You can sit here," I tell him, standing up and settling myself on the arm of Karen's chair because I know she won't mind. She has a boyfriend – a player on the England Quidditch team named Duncan Dunes – so I know it won't seem as though I like her like _that_ by sitting with her. Besides, we've been on the Quidditch team together since second year, so we've gotten to be pretty good friends, despite our briefly awkward interaction last year when I asked her out.

Jake settles into my vacated spot, and Aria once again stretches across the couch, looking slightly disgruntled at being forced to move again, but not disgruntled enough to be able to hide the smile on her face when she looks at Jake.

"So, what are you guys talking about? And why is the dormitory so clean?" he asks, looking puzzled. We laugh, and Mike launches into the story again. To my astonishment, Jake's ears turn a very amusing shade of magenta when he hears that the girls were upstairs, although by the way everyone keeps talking normally, I doubt anyone else notices, so I don't say anything.

Noon rolls around and we all decide – finally – that we should head down for lunch. Skyla, Aiden, Karen, Brian, and Kelsey shoot out of the Common Room so fast one would think they were on fire or something, which makes the rest of us laugh all the way down the seventh floor corridor.

I might be completely wrong, but while Aria is laughing a little too loudly and exuberantly at everything that could be even potentially amusing that Jake says, I notice Mike eyeing him slightly enviously. It hits me that Mike might feel a little more toward Aria than innocent friendship. I don't know why I haven't noticed it before now.

The more I think about it, the more sense it makes though. He's always been extra supportive of Aria, and he goes to her to talk about just about everything. They've been friends since the middle of second year when Aria fell down a flight of stairs because it was Valentine's Day and one of the teachers had had the brilliant idea to send singing Valentines flying around the school. She'd tripped over a flock of them (which, once we found out she was okay, we teased her for months over afterward) and had broken her leg.

Anyway, Mike had gone to visit her in the hospital wing because they'd just been assigned partners for a DADA project that day, and he'd brought her chocolates and everything, and they've been great friends since. Thinking back on it, it's actually absolutely adorable. If someone ever brought Abby chocolates, I'd probably 'awww' myself to death (in private of course – I'd make fun of her with everyone else to her face).

"So, are you excited for Healer training?" Mike asks, cutting off whatever witty (ha) thing Jake was going to say next.

Aria turns her eyes to him, and for just as split second I see irritation flit across her face. It's gone so fast that it's not even there by the time she's finished turning her head, and I highly doubt Mike caught it, but boy did that look say a lot.

Of course she's annoyed – Mike interrupted a conversation with _Jake_ – but the nastiest Slytherin could bring up Healer training and Aria would get worked up about it. Although, considering what Jake told me last night about him finding his dad, Aria's conversations with Jake might turn out to be more precious in the next few days than even she can imagine.

She starts up about Healer training, which of course she's excited for (what a stupid question – that's another reason I think Aria and Jake are perfect for each other – they don't ask each other stupid questions), while I stare at Aria's face (a sure-fire way to get her upset with me), trying to find that hidden annoyance.

We arrive in the Great Hall to the others already stuffing their faces. Okay, to be fair, only Aiden and Brian are _truly_ stuffing their faces, but the girls are eating with more gusto than usual. I can't blame them – lunch, the feast tonight, and breakfast tomorrow are the last we'll ever get of Hogwarts cooking unless we somehow find our ways back here someday.

I sit down beside Karen seeing as she's the closest to Skyla I can get considering Aiden and Kelsey are on the other side, and the unfortunate love triangle sit down across from us.

Lunch is nothing special by Hogwarts standards – just a variety of sandwiches in any combination you can possibly imagine and several other … for lack of a better word … _lunchy_ things – but just the fact that it's our _last_ Hogwarts lunch makes it taste a thousand times better than any lunch we've ever had.

We don't say much throughout the meal – we're too busy stuffing our faces and cramming everything in sight into our mouths because we all know this could very well be the last time we taste it.

x.x

Mike Carson

After lunch, we head outside. We settle under a tree at the shore of the lake, and almost instantly Brian and Kelsey's lips become glued together, and everyone notices Skyla watching them hopefully like maybe if she watches intently enough Aiden (or Sean) will get the message.

Sean casts them a disgusted look, and Aria just laughs at her brother's discomfort. I shiver involuntarily when she does that – laughs I mean. Her laugh is beautiful. So is the rest of her. In fact, if it weren't for one tiny little detail – okay, _two _tiny little details – Aria and I would make a great couple.

The only problems are A: She's completely and utterly head-over-heels in love with a certain Jacob Parks, leaving absolutely no space in that pretty head of hers for yours truly. And B: She doesn't think of me as any more than a friend. I can tell. Because when she looks at me, she smiles, because she's glad to see me, but when she looks at Jake, her whole face lights up, and it's like someone flipped a switch inside of her.

If Jake wasn't such a great guy, I'd hate him.

* * *

**A/N**: Shorter – wow, _way_ shorter – than usual! Anyway, please review! Thanks!


	6. Home Again

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews I got for last chapter! You guys all rock! I promised you another chapter soon, and here it is! Happy reading everyone!

* * *

**Chapter Six: Home Again**

Ron

It's hard to believe Aria, Sean, and Jake are on their way home from Hogwarts right now for the _very last time_. It seems like just yesterday I was sending the three of them off for their second year of school with big smiles on their faces. I look at the clock to see their train will be arriving any second. They argued long and hard for the privilege to apparate home when they arrived in London, _promising_ that they wouldn't splinch Abby when she side-along apparated with Aria. It was the girls and their puppy-dog eyes that finally won me over.

"Hey, Dad," Henry says, coming into the living room and sitting down on the sofa beside me. I smile at him. He sighs loudly, and I almost laugh.

"What's wrong, buddy?" I ask him, turning to give him my undivided attention.

"Are Aria, Sean, and Jake going to go away?" he asks, wrinkling up his forehead in concern. I smile at him.

"Not for a few weeks at least," I tell him, trying my best to be reassuring. The truth is, I don't want them to move out anymore than he does. They're only seventeen! Okay, to be fair, Jake and Sean are now eighteen, but Aria won't be eighteen until August. They're not old enough to move out and have places of their own yet!

"I don't want them to move out," he says unhappily, biting his lip. I smile sadly.

"Me neither," I whisper. Henry opens his mouth to reply, but he's cut off by the front door banging open loudly.

"Dad!"

"Ron!"

"Dad!"

"Daddy!"

We hear the four shouts from the kitchen, and Henry runs that way so fast he could have apparated out of the room. I stand up and head into the kitchen to see Abby hugging Henry, the latter looking extremely disgruntled at being delayed in greeting Aria.

"Hey, Dad," Aria says happily, coming forward and hugging me. I smile down at her and hug her back tightly – I've missed her so much.

_"Aria!"_ Henry complains loudly, stretching out the 'ah' sound in her name in annoyance. Aria smiles and releases me to hug Henry, who grins and wraps his skinny arms around her neck. For a nine-year-old, he's pretty tall actually, but so skinny that Keira and I worry about him sometimes. Yet, he eats the equivalence to Aria _and_ Abby at meals. He's a mystery to all of us. Maybe he just has a super-fast metabolism or something.

Henry hugs Sean and Jake as well, although not nearly as enthusiastically. It's no secret around here who the younger kids idolize. Aria's the one who keeps the boys from beating up on Henry when he's being a pain the arse, and whenever Sean gets mad at Abby for some stupid reason, Aria intervenes pretty quickly. She's the house peace-maker.

"Where's Mum?" Sean asks as he sets his trunk down at the foot of the stairs with a thump. I shrug.

"She went to get groceries about an hour ago – said something about needing to stock up now that you two boys were coming home," I tell them nonchalantly, eliciting a little laugh from Aria. I smile at her warmly. How I've missed having her around the last ten months.

My stomach constricts painfully when I remember that it won't be very long until she – and Sean and Jake – moves out.

"Daddy!" Abby says pointedly, obviously waiting for me to hug her. I smile at her and wrap an arm around her.

"I didn't forget you," I tell her, kissing the top of her head. She giggles and squirms away from me with a big grin.

"Okay, you four. Go put your things upstairs and then we can sit down and you can tell me all about that Quidditch game," I say. Aria is the first to comply, and she levitates her trunk up the stairs, disappearing before Sean and Jake even make it through the living room.

x.x

Jake

I follow Aria into her room, leaving my trunk sitting outside my bedroom door. She looks up at me with an expectant smile as she sits on the bed, patting the spot next to her as an invitation to join her, which I do immediately.

"Aria …" I bite my lip, uncertain of what to say to her with her smiling at me so warmly. I can't let her go on thinking we'll have the entire summer together, not after what Sean and I talked about the other night – I've already made up my mind that I'm going to find my father, and I'm not taking her with me.

"What's wrong?" she asks, looking at me with those irresistibly beautiful blue eyes. I sigh, chew on my lip, glance away. I look back up to see she has an amused smile on her pretty face.

"I need to know just exactly how you expected this summer to go," I reply softly, looking away again. I can't bear to look at her as I tell her that I'm going to be leaving her for an entire summer – if not longer.

Her laughter makes me look back up at her sharply. "What is this about?" she asks with a grin. She looks so beautiful when she smiles. I want so badly to kiss her. Damn it!

"Just answer the question, Aria," I murmur. Her smile disappears, to be replaced by an annoyed and concerned frown.

"I don't know. I just guess I expected we'd spend time together. I mean … this is like our last real summer together before we really start work. Healer training isn't all day, so my afternoons are pretty much free. I was hoping …" she trails off, and when I glance at her, she won't meet my eye. "I was hoping we'd spend the summer together," she whispers at last.

"That's what I thought," I answer, unable to tear my gaze from her features. She finally turns her eyes back to mine.

"Why, what were you thinking?" she asks.

"Aria, I … I want to find my dad," I whisper. She looks at me for a second or so before her face breaks into a great big smile.

"That's great!" she says loudly, grabbing my arm in excitement. I wince as an electric current shoots all the way up to my shoulder at her touch. "Are-aren't you happy about that?" she asks, seeing that I'm not sharing in her joy.

"Of course. But … it'll mean that I'll be gone a lot," I tell her uncertainly. She gives me a confused look.

"Gone?"

"Yes. I have no idea where he is … I–I'm going to _go_ find him," I tell her, wanting her to understand.

"Why can't you stay here?" she asks instantly, rather childishly.

"How am I supposed to find him sitting in the living room?" I ask tersely, suddenly annoyed with her childishness. She pulls back in surprise at my tone.

"I-I don't know. Are you going to be gone all summer?" she asks, looking hurt.

"I don't know, Aria. I'm not sure how long it will take me to find him."

"Can I go with you?" The inevitable question comes, and I close my eyes for patience. I don't want to get upset with Aria. I don't want to make her mad.

"No."

"Why not?" she demands. I open my eyes to see her glaring at me.

"Because first of all, you have Healer training starting in three weeks, and there is no way I'm letting you miss out on that just to come on some adventure with me, and secondly… I need to do this on my own. I can't explain it," I tell her softly. Her expression crumples in disappointment.

"When are you leaving?"

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "In a couple weeks I suppose."

"A couple weeks? That's not very long," she says, her tone sad and hurt. I reach out and squeeze her hand. She looks up at me with those eyes of hers and I feel my heart clench painfully.

"Can you stay until I start Healer training?" she asks. I swallow. I've been mulling over finding my dad ever since the night we won the Quidditch Cup, trying to find the best way to start, and I've finally come up with the best place to begin, but three weeks … in three weeks it might be too late.

"We'll see," I say softly. She nods and stands up. I follow suit immediately.

"Aria," I say quietly as she walks out the door. She pauses and looks back at me. "I'm not doing this to hurt you."

"I know," she answers with a small smile. "I know you'd never hurt me."

I return her smile and follow her out of the room and back down to the kitchen where Ron, Henry, and Abby are chatting, Abby loudly exclaiming how awesome the final Quidditch match was to the other two, who are listening with rapt attention.

As we enter, Ron looks up and beams at Aria. He stands and hugs her again, kissing the side of her head adoringly. I feel a small bubble of sadness and jealousy erupt in my chest.

Ron simply adores Aria. If you were to ask him which of his children he loves the most, no doubt he'd act all offended and insist that he loves them all equally, but I think he's always favored Aria just a little bit.

The Christmas we were in first year that we spent at Harry's with Aria and her mum was when I found out that Ron was Aria's father, only to be sworn to secrecy about it; I also found out that Ron was in love with Hermione. At the time, I didn't understand how he could possibly love both Hermione _and_ Keira, and I still don't, not really.

It's always been obvious to me that Ron loved Keira. But with Hermione … he was a different person when he was around her. Yeah, the few days they spent together were mostly spent arguing, but when they stopped that … well, I'd never seen Ron so happy. He loves Keira, but he _really_ loved Hermione. I think that's why he favors Aria so much – she's all he has left of Hermione.

I notice Abby watching Aria and their father with a slightly disgruntled expression. She can see it too. In fact, Abby has confided in me before that she sometimes wonders if her dad loves Aria more than her. I assured her the first time this happened (when she was seven) that of course that this wasn't the case – that her daddy obviously loves each of them equally, but her worries got me thinking, and I've noticed it a lot over the years.

Ron spends most of his free time doting on Aria. If he was in the middle of a really important report for work, and Sean or I interrupted him, he'd most likely yell at us, and tell us to go find something better to do than bother him. He'd tell Abby very gently that he couldn't play with her right then; that he was busy and really needed to get his work done. Henry would simply receive an extremely exasperated sigh and a look that would probably make him come running to Sean or me, badmouthing his extremely inattentive father.

But Aria? If Aria asked him to, he'd throw the report in the fire and completely ignore it, jump up instantly and do whatever she wanted. Ok, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration – depending on the real importance of the report, he might ask her to leave him be for a few minutes to finish up and _then_ join her if it was really important, or if it was a fairly tame report that wasn't due for a few days, he'd more than likely throw his quill down, don a huge smile, jump up, and say "Sure, sweetheart, of course we can play Quidditch! This isn't that important anyway." And they'd walk outside with their brooms on their shoulders to the extremely incredulous expressions of Abby, Henry, and Sean.

So really, Abby's fears aren't unfounded.

"Abby was telling me about the Quidditch game," Ron tells Aria, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. She smiles at her half-sister, who returns the expression rather reluctantly. Don't get me wrong – Abby and Henry simply love Aria to pieces – but that doesn't mean they don't get jealous over the attention she receives from their already stretched-too-thin father.

It must be hard for Ron, having to divide his time between his four children and me (although I have to admit, I've always gotten more from Keira than Ron, as Keira only works three days a week for a little boutique in Diagon Alley, and Ron obviously finds his own children to be worth more immediate attention).

"Yeah? Did Abby tell you about Liz Vemborrow's _amazing_ catch of the snitch?" Aria asks. Ron raises his eyebrows, indicating that no, his younger daughter certainly did _not_ tell him about this "amazing" catch.

Aria launches into a detailed description of the game, leaving Abby looking putout that her audience has been stolen from her as Henry hangs on every word his eldest sister speaks with a hungry expression on his thin face.

I drop into the chair beside Abby, and she turns to smile at me. I lean down to her level and grin back.

"Want to go flying?" I ask her softly. Her face lights up and she nods eagerly. I glance at Ron to see he's completely engrossed in the story Aria is telling. I jerk my head to indicate for her to follow me outside.

Hey, if Ron's going to ignore his younger daughter, than I'm going to do something to make sure she doesn't take it too personally.

* * *

**A/N**: I know, it isn't very long, and I'm sorry! But I just posted chapter five yesterday, so really, you can't yell at me too much! Please review!


	7. Decisions

**A/N**: Thanks to all reviewers last chapter!! Just a quick note: if you have anything you want discussed, you can feel more than free to head over to my forum (the link is on my profile) and start up a topic there! That said, I want to let you know that I appreciate all the different little hints and suggestions I've been getting, and I'm taking them all into consideration. Not necessarily using them, but considering them! Thanks a ton! Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Decisions**

Jake

After playing one-on-one Quidditch with Abby for almost an hour, we're forced inside due to the ominous storm clouds building up, bringing with them strong, chilly winds. We head inside to the wonderful aroma of something cooking, and right away I can tell Keira's home.

"Mum!" Abby yells, practically throwing her dad's broom on the ground in her eagerness. She runs into the kitchen where Keira can be heard fawning over her only daughter. I pick up the broom and put it away in the closet with the others before making my way into the kitchen as well.

"Jake!" Keira exclaims, coming forward and hugging me. I smile at her.

"What smells so good?" I ask, peering over her shoulder to where there is something cooking in a pan on the stove.

"Supper," she answers, and I groan. Supper is still quite a ways off, which means whatever she's making, once it's done on the stove, it's going straight into the oven for some more cooking time. The whole house is sure to smell irresistibly delicious, slowly driving me insane.

"Where'd everyone go?" I ask, finding the kitchen deserted. Keira shrugs and waves a hand around vaguely, indicating that she has absolutely no idea where Aria, her husband, or her other two children have disappeared to. I smile and hug the woman who has served as my stand-in mum for the last thirteen years of my life.

"You're so helpful," I tell her, and she laughs, standing on tip-toe and kissing me on the cheek. I grin at her before heading upstairs.

I head up to my own room, looking forward to just flopping down in my very own bed and simply lying there for awhile, staring at the familiar ceiling above me. Except halfway to my door, I spot Aria through her open doorway, doing exactly as I was just thinking of doing, and I veer over that way to say hello.

I stand in her doorway and watch her for awhile. She's lying there with her eyes closed, but I can tell she's awake. She never sleeps on her back – apparently it just "feels weird". I dunno. Aria's weird herself, what can I say?

"What are you grinning at?" she asks with her eyes still closed. I give her a perplexed look. How on earth could she tell I was smiling when her eyes are closed?

"I can see you, you know," she tells me with a smile. I raise my eyebrows at her, and she giggles, which makes me grin even more. She opens her eyes all the way and sits up, still smiling.

"Had enough of bragging to your dad?" I ask her, going over and perching on the edge of her bed. She rolls her eyes at me with a grin.

"I was not _bragging_," she says firmly, and I laugh.

"Sure you weren't."

She makes an indignant noise and reaches forward and slaps my arm in protest. I just smile at her, trying to memorize every single feature in her beautiful face. She notices me staring and blushes.

"Stop it," she says, casting me a fond glare. "You're embarrassing me."

"Embarrassed? There's no one else around!" I exclaim, grinning at her.

"You're around," she says softly, looking down. I stare at her. She did _not_ just say that…did she?

"Wh-what?" I stammer, still not letting myself believe she really just said that and meant it in the way I think she meant it.

"You heard me," she says irritably, glancing back up at me sharply.

"Sorry."

"Jake…" she trails off, her expression strange.

"What?" I ask.

She bites her lip. "I… I just…" She stares at me a few seconds before laughing slightly. "Why is this so hard?" she whispers to herself. I give her a confused look.

"Just say it," I say softly. She looks at me and takes a deep breath, slowly letting it out, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Jake … I … I really…" she pauses, closes her eyes for a few seconds, and takes another deep breath. "Jake," she says firmly, opening her eyes. "I really think I l–"

"ARIA! IT'S YOUR TURN TO TAKE OUT THE TRASH!"

Keira's shout couldn't have come at a worse time. Aria's eyes widen in surprise and she jumps up. She casts me an embarrassed smile before hurrying away. I stare after her in shock. Did she almost just say…?

I sit there on her bed for awhile, still not quite sure what just happened. What on earth…? Aria doesn't like me as more than a… no. Absolutely-

"Jake?"

The perplexed tone makes me look up. Sean is standing in the doorway, looking at me rather warily, obviously wondering what the heck I'm doing in his sister's room by myself.

"Hey," is all I can manage at the moment however.

"You okay?"

I look up at Sean, and there is genuine concern in his face. Sean, my best friend in the entire world since the age of five years. Sean, who is like a brother to me, only better because we don't fight nearly as often as real brothers (I would know, because Sean and Henry fight like wildcats when they get at it). Sean, who is fully convinced that Aria and I are perfect for each other, yet would kill me if I ever did anything to hurt her.

"I'm … I dunno," I say truthfully after a moment. "Your mum sure has bad timing though. Aria and I were talking and it _sounded_ like she was going to say that she l–"

"Hey, guys!"

I stop talking immediately at the sound of Aria's voice. She grins at us both, our earlier embarrassments forgotten. Sean is staring at me, but I ignore him and hoist a smile onto my face, though in all honesty it's not that hard, looking at Aria's cheery expression.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, sitting down beside me on the bed, quite a bit closer than she had been before. I suddenly find myself wishing Sean would disappear.

"Nothing much," Sean says nonchalantly, though the spark in his eye indicates otherwise. Aria doesn't comment, but I can tell she doesn't believe him. She probably suspects we were talking about her, but we'd never say anything bad, so I doubt she cares much.

"Keira wanted me to tell you that supper will be ready in about half an hour, and I'm kicking you both out because I need to get out of these clothes and into something a little less warm," she says, indicating the Muggle jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt she's wearing. We both stand and comply to her orders, heading back to our own rooms to unpack for now.

"And I call dibs on the shower!" she yells after us, just before Sean shuts his door behind him. As she closes her own door, Aria casts me a rather shy smile, and my stomach flip-flops. I smile back, waiting just long enough for the door to shut all the way before grinning conspiratorially and locking myself in the bathroom for a nice half-hour long shower.

.x.

It's been one week and three days since we got home, and I'm so sick of hearing about Aria's upcoming Healer training that it's all I can do to keep from leaving the room every time she opens her mouth about it. I'm getting sick of sitting around the house all day with nothing to do. Ron is working from home now that it's summer, and he spends most of his days locked in his office, ignoring everyone (with the occasional exception of Aria) from the end of breakfast to the beginning of lunch, and then after lunch until Keira gets home on the days she works in Diagon Alley or until four thirty, which is when Keira makes him stop.

Sean spends his mornings playing Quidditch with Aria – brutal, exhausting games that make me wonder why anyone would ever want to play professionally. In the afternoon he goes down to the old swimming hole and swims laps – lap after lap after lap. He asked me to go with him once, and I did, and all he did was swim laps. It took all the fun out of the place that we used to spend endless summer days at together with Aria and Skyla, laughing and having a good time. I miss those days.

So the afternoons I _should_ have Aria to myself – except that I don't. Abby may have spent the entire year with us at school, so she's had enough of Aria (and me) to last her for awhile, but Henry hasn't seen any of his siblings (or me) since last September, and he is _constantly_ hanging around, trying (and usually succeeding) to convince Aria to play Quidditch, and dragging Abby and me into it as well.

Today however, it is just me and Aria. Sean had to apparate out to Ireland for a meeting with his manager, and Keira has taken Abby and Henry out to the nearby village for the day.

"This is nice," Aria says softly, and without looking I can hear the smile in her voice. We're lying in the grass on the hill behind the house, a few yards from the edge of the forest. The sun is beating down, but not unpleasantly so, and I'd be content to lie here with Aria beside me for the rest of my life.

"It is," I agree just as quietly, not even opening my eyes.

"Jake?" Her tone is different now, more serious. I reluctantly crack open an eye and turn my head to see her watching me.

"What?"

"I don't want you to go."

I take a deep breath. So this is it. I decided two days ago that I can't put off my departure any longer. I have to see my mum before I do anything else, and I know for a fact that she's going to arrive in London tonight, and will be leaving again in two days. I need to see her, talk to her, pick her brain. She probably won't tell me much, but if I'm ever going to get started it has to be within the next couple days.

"Aria…"

"No, let me finish," she says, holding up her hand. I try not to show my annoyance at that. She had the chance to finish just before when I'd stopped talking, but she had deliberately waited for me to reply.

"I don't want you to go … without me," she says softly. I sit up at that. Does she not remember this conversation happening just over a week ago?

"Aria, no," I say firmly. She looks up at me defiantly.

"Why not?" she demands.

"Because you have Healer training starting in less than two weeks, that's why! You're not throwing your entire career away for this!" I say angrily. Why can't she understand that I'm doing this _for_ her? She looks at me with a hurt expression.

"I'll miss you if you go," she says pitifully.

"Aria, don't," I say softly, closing my eyes against the tears welling up in her eyes. I will myself not to lose patience with her.

"Jake, please," she says, and her voice is choked with tears. "Don't go."

"I have to go, Aria!" I say furiously, practically spitting the words at her. A few tears slip down her cheeks.

"Then take me with you!" she cries. "Please!"

"_No, _Aria!"

"Jake!"

"Aria, stop it!" I snarl. "Stop it this instant! You're being childish! Selfish, childish and stupid. I am _not_ taking you with me."

She stares at me a few seconds, tears falling freely from those beautiful blue eyes. She does nothing to wipe them away. Indeed, it's as though she doesn't even realize she's crying.

"When are you leaving?" she asks at last.

"Tomorrow."

A sob escapes her throat. Just one single sob. But it's enough to shred my heart and slam it into the ground. And then another. And another. She curls into herself and sobs into her knees, and I feel so terrible that I move forward and wrap my arms around her.

She leans into me, clutching my arm and crying into it. She pressed up hard against my chest, clinging to me, and I'm reminded of that night after our final Quidditch game. Except now she's not afraid, she's heartbroken … and now it's me breaking her heart. And I feel absolutely rotten for it.

"Please," she manages through her tears. That's all she says. Then she says it again. "Please."

"I'm sorry," I murmur into her hair. "I am so, so sorry, Aria."

We sit like that until her sobs diminish, but her tears are still soaking into my shoulder. I hold her, and she holds onto me tightly, every now and then shaking with a silent cry.

"I don't want you to go," she whispers again. I hug her.

"I'm sorry."

"Why do you have to go tomorrow?" she asks, burying her face in my chest now. I rest my cheek against the top of her head.

"Because I need to see my mum."

She looks up at that, her expression somewhere between incredulous and anger. "You're going to see your mum?" she repeats. I just nod at her.

"She's my best hope for finding my dad," I say when she doesn't look any closer to speaking again.

"Where's your mum?" she asks. I sigh softly.

"She'll be in London the next two days," I reply.

"How do you know that?"

I close my eyes. How do I know that? Because my mum has spent the same two days in London every summer for the last thirteen years. Every year she gets a hotel room in one of the big fancy muggle hotels for two days. She could easily pop in for an hour or so during those two days just to say hi, but I haven't seen her since I was ten years old. Some years I'm lucky to get a birthday card from her. I've come to terms with the fact that my mum obviously doesn't care enough to try to see me, but it still never fails to piss me off that she is just an hour away by muggle car for two days _every single year_ and she's never once stopped to see me.

"She's always in London this week," I reply softly. I open my eyes to see Aria looking at me with sympathy and pity, and I hate it. I don't _want _her pity.

"I want to go with you," she says again, and my irritation flares up instantly. "No," she says quickly, seeing my face. "Not to find your dad. I get it, Jake. You want to do this on your own. But … I've never met your mum…" she whispers, her eyes boring into mine. That's true enough – Mum doesn't even know she exists. She never writes to me, so why should I bother to write to her? I suspect that Keira sometimes writes letters to her, seeing as they're some sort of friends, but I wouldn't know if she's ever gotten a reply.

"I don't want you to meet my mum," I tell her, and for a moment she looks indignant. "It's not because of you. My mum … she's not … she's not _normal_. She acts and dresses like she's seventeen, and she's _not_, and she thinks she can buy my approval – or at least she did when I was ten. She bought me a brand new broom for my tenth birthday, and it cost more than all of my other presents from _all_ of the Weasleys combined. I hated that broom so much that I made Ron take it back. I couldn't even touch it. My mum is not a nice person, Aria. She's judgmental and cruel. I don't want you to meet her. You understand, don't you?"

Aria looks at me with a rather hurt expression.

"It isn't like I don't want you to be a part of my life – I mean, look at us Aria, we're practically related – I just don't want her to rail on you for something stupid, and then have you remember her like that for the rest of your life. It would be fine with me if I never saw my mum again, Aria. The only reason I'm going to see her at all is to ask her about my dad. You understand don't you?" I ask again.

"Is it going to be like this with your dad too?" she asks quietly.

"What? No, of course not! When – _if_ – I find him, of course I'll want you to meet him! Unless he turns out to be some loser who I'll never want to speak to again, in which case I'll make sure you stay as far away from him as possible," I say with a smile. She doesn't smile back.

"I've always wanted to meet your mum," she whispers. I hug her and despite myself, I kiss the side of her head. She looks up at me in surprise.

"I know. And if my mum was a good person who would see you the way I see you, then I'd have absolutely no problem with you meeting her. I care about you, Aria. So much," I murmur in her ear, holding her close against me. She wraps her arms around my neck.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispers, pressing her cheek against mine – it's wet with fresh tears. "So, _so_ much."

.x.

Supper that night is lively and loud as Abby and Henry tell Ron about their day in the village with great enthusiasm. Sean isn't home – his meeting was late in the day, so he's staying overnight in Ireland at Al's (the captain for Ireland's team). Aria and I don't speak. I haven't told Ron or Keira about my plans. By the time they wake up tomorrow, I'll be gone. Keira would make a big fuss about it, probably tell my mum ahead of time, and then she'd be gone before I ever made it to London. Ron would probably somehow dissuade me from even starting. So I've told no one but Aria and Sean, my two most trusted friends.

After dinner, Keira sets Abby and Henry to doing the dishes, which they complain loudly about, stating that Aria and I could do it in a fraction of the time with our wands, but we just grin at them and head upstairs. We were once stuck with dishes duty as well, and no one ever helped us out.

Upstairs, Aria and I sit on her bed, and she looks up at me silently, her eyes sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"When will I see you again?" she asks, slipping her hands into mine. I feel a thrill run up my arms and through my chest at her touch. I bring one hand to my lips and kiss it, and a slight blush creeps along her cheeks.

"I don't know," I reply truthfully. Tears spring instantly to her eyes. "Please don't cry," I murmur, slipping my arms around her and pulling her close. She leans against me and sighs.

"I don't want you to go."

"I know." We've had this same two-line conversation about twenty times in the last few hours. Aria looks up at me, her blue eyes bright with unshed tears. My chest constricts and my pulse quickens. I should kiss her. Right here and now. It's my last chance before-

"Jake," she whispers, reaching up one hand and touching my cheek with one slender finger. She brings her finger back and I'm shocked to see a glistening tear shining there. I reach up and touch my own face – it's wet. I hadn't even realized I was crying. And why?

"Aria," I say softly, cupping her face in my hands. She looks at me and the sudden intensity in her eyes makes me lean forward.

* * *

**A/N**: Oh you're all going to hate me. Yes, I did it to you – I left you with a cliffie. And a HUGE cliffie at that. But it's long! You can't yell at me too much! Please review! Much love from your authoress!


	8. The Search Begins

**A/N**: Once again, thanks a bunch to all of my wonderful reviewers! Not much to say really, except that I hope you don't all hate me too much because of how I handled that cliffhanger. Can't have too much plot development at once now can I? Oh, and to those of you who are wondering about why Jake's mum is in London, that probably won't be coming up until _next_ chapter. Sorry!

* * *

**Chapter Eight: The Search Begins**

Jake

I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark while thoughts of everything I'm leaving behind run through my mind. Memories of summers past spent with Aria flood my mind, and I feel my chest constrict. If not for her Healer training, I would take her with me. Who knows how long I'll be gone? And yeah, maybe I don't have to go _away_ … I could always come back here each night, but it wouldn't be very convenient. Sure, wizards can apparate to places hundreds of miles away in a second, but I don't know where this search will take me. I've heard trans-oceanic apparition is harder than normal apparition, and what if I have to go to … I dunno, America or something?

I think back to earlier this evening, back in Aria's bedroom. I'd been so close to kissing her. So incredibly close… And then, all of a sudden, she'd pulled away. She sat up, hugged me, and told me she had to go take a shower. It was the weirdest thing. It was almost like … she didn't _want_ me to kiss her. And then… maybe she didn't. Maybe she doesn't think about me as more than a friend. Maybe she thinks of me as more of a brother. Merlin, I hope not.

I figure I can wait until about five or six to leave, because Ron and Keira usually don't get up until at least seven thirty, if not later. Aria never asked what time I was leaving, so I never told her. I plan to be gone long before she's awake. Sean isn't home, so I couldn't tell him, and even if he'd asked, I probably just would have told him 'early' and left it at that. I couldn't bear to say good-bye to Aria _again_.

Somehow I manage to doze for a few hours, and when I open my eyes again, the digital numbers on my clock are shining at me: 5:38. I sigh and get up, knowing that even if I stayed in bed, I probably wouldn't sleep. I dig out an old duffle bag and throw as much clothes as I can fit into it.

Figuring I really don't have to hurry, I go over to my desk and light the lamp. I sit down and pull out a piece of parchment. Dipping my quill into an ink jar, I start off:

_Hey Aria –_

_I'm sorry I didn't wait for you to wake up. I just couldn't bear to say good-bye. Just know that I'll always care about you, and I'll be back. I don't know when, but I promise you this, Aria: I'll never _really_ leave you. I'll always come back. I could never stay away forever. You mean too much to me._

_All my love,  
__Jake_

The way I see it, I can write anything to her, and it'll be a hundred times easier than ever saying it to her face. Besides, I don't have to _see_ her face when she reads it.

I pull out another sheet of parchment. I have yet to tell Ron and Keira of my plans to leave, and I figure, what better way to explain than in a letter? I scribble them a quick note before writing one last short note to Sean.

_Hey Sean – _

_By the time you get this, I'll have been long gone. I just wanted to tell you … take care of Aria. I know you will anyway, and no doubt the next time we see each other, you'll be furious with me for hurting her like I have, but I just want to know she has someone as caring as you looking after her. You've always been my best mate, Sean. I trust you with my life. Don't forget that. I'll be back. That's a promise._

_Always,  
Jake_

I creep into the hall, slip Sean's note under his closed door, and pad quietly over to Aria's bedroom door, which is open, as usual. I stand in the doorway and stare at her sleeping form for more than five minutes, just admiring the way the early summer morning sunlight shines through her window and falls around her like a halo. She's so beautiful.

Silently, I cross her bedroom and lay her letter gently on her night stand, on top of the latest novel she's been reading. She's turned toward me in her sleep, and there's a trace of a smile on her face. I hope whatever she's dreaming tonight is pleasant.

"I'm sorry, Aria," I whisper to her in the semi-darkness. "I truly am."

Leaving her bedroom, I slip downstairs as quietly as I can, strategically avoiding the creaky stair eight steps up from the bottom, and walk across the landing to Ron and Keira's bedroom door. I press my ear to the wood, and hear nothing inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pass by the door and go down to the first floor. I slip into Ron's office and set an envelope on top of his latest report for work. Then I start my silent trek back upstairs.

I get back to my bedroom, shut the door gently, gather my things, and extinguish the lamp. Taking one last look around the place I've called home for the last thirteen years, I take a deep breath, spin on my heel, and disapparate.

x.x

Ron

I sit at the breakfast table with Henry on one side of me, Abby across from him, telling Henry even _more _about Hogwarts and how much he'll love it when he gets to go there. Poor kid. He doesn't get to go until _next_ year, and he's going to throw a fit when Abby leaves again. My only hope is that Aria and Jake will stick around for a few more months to keep him occupied.

It suddenly strikes me as odd that neither Aria nor Jake is down at breakfast – especially the latter. Aria likes to sleep in, so it's not uncommon for her to eat a late breakfast around ten, but Jake has always been an early riser. He's usually up around seven – it's nearly eight now.

"Have you seen Jake or Aria this morning?" I ask the occupants of the kitchen in general. The kids look up at me, and Keira turns.

"Nope," Abby says with a shrug, going back to her breakfast. Henry shrugs as well.

"What were you saying about Professor Flitwick?" he asks impatiently when he sees his sister isn't speaking.

Abby goes back to telling Henry about the tiny Charms professor – I can't believe he's _still _there – but Keira gives me a concerned look.

"Jake's usually up by now," she comments worriedly. "Should I go check on him?

"No," I say. "Maybe he just stayed up late last night. I'm sure he'll be down soon." I finish off my cup of coffee and stand up.

"That was delicious," I tell Keira. I go over to her and kiss her on the cheek, and she smiles up at me.

"I suppose you're going to disappear into your study now?" she asks fondly with a mock-frown. I grin at her and give her another kiss. Over at the table, Abby makes fake retching sounds, which Henry soon copies.

"Yeah, I have to finish that report by tomorrow afternoon," I tell her, giving her one more kiss. She sighs good-naturedly.

"Alright. I _suppose_ I'll manage without you," she says. I smile at her.

"Good. I gotta get to work now," I tell her rather reluctantly. I hate that I have to work so much, but Keira only works part-time three days a week, and only in the summers – at least until Henry goes to school – and that doesn't make enough money to support our family.

"Alright. I'll call you when lunch is ready," she says, kissing me one last time. Abby wrinkles her nose at us.

"That is disgusting," she tells us, and we grin at each other.

"Yeah," Henry agrees. "Disgusting."

I chuckle and head to my office, ruffling Abby's hair as I pass. I notice her smooth it down immediately as I leave, and I feel the slightest bit of despair at that. Abby's growing up. In less than six years, she'll be moving out as well, and then … I stop myself before I can get to thinking about what our house will be like when it's nothing but empty rooms.

In my study, I close the door and settle down at my desk. I arrange my ink jar within reach and lay my quill out beside my report. That's when I notice it – a small brown envelope lying smack in the center of my in-progress work. I pick it up. There's no writing on it, but if it's in _my _office, I can only assume it's for me.

Hooking my finger under the flap, I slit it open and pull out a half sheet of parchment. I recognize the spiky handwriting as Jake's almost instantly.

_Ron & Keira –_

_I'm pretty sure you don't know this, but I've gone to find my father. I've spent thirteen years wondering who he is, and what he really thinks of me. So I've gone to look for him. I don't know how long I'll be gone or where I'm going, but I'll be back. I can only hope that when I return, your door is still open to me. The two of you have always been like parents to me, and I appreciate all you've done for me more than you could possibly imagine. Give my love to Abby and Henry, and try to explain to them. I'll be gone by the time you're reading this, but I will be back someday. I promise._

_Always,  
__Jake_

I sit back in my chair, suddenly breathless. What? Jake wants to find … well! I try to wrap my mind around this. Then, throwing the letter down on my desk, I jump up. He said he'd be gone by now, but maybe… just _maybe_ he's still here.

I practically sprint through the kitchen, receiving very strange looks from my wife and two youngest children. I take the stairs two, sometimes three at a time, running as though my life depends on it. He _can't _be gone. Aria would … _Aria_. She would have … she would have wanted to… No! He wouldn't have taken … would he?

I double my pace, if that's possible, and skid to a stop just before Aria's bedroom door, which is shut. I knock quickly before throwing the door open, not waiting for her permission to enter. She looks up in surprise, her face suddenly breaking into a hopeful expression … which then fades.

"Oh," she whispers, looking down. "It's just you." I take a good look at her, sitting cross-legged on top of her unmade bed, a piece of parchment in her hands. Relief spreads through me despite the distraught look on her face.

"I was so afraid," I whisper, sinking into the armchair in the corner of her room. The worn leather is soft, and it reminds me of Hermione every time I see or sit in it. Aria brought it back from their old house, and I remember Hermione once telling me that she and Aria would spend hours in this very chair, reading stories.

"Of what?" Aria asks without looking up from the note in her hands. Her voice shakes.

"I thought you'd gone with him."

She looks up; her eyes are full of tears. "He wouldn't let me," she whispers, and a tear falls down her precious cheek. My heart nearly breaks at the thought that if Jake was any less gallant, my daughter would not be here right now. She _wanted_ to leave with him.

"Did you get one too?" I ask, indicating her letter. She merely nods, which only goes to show the true extent of her heartbreak. I asked such an obvious question that I nearly rolled my eyes at myself.

I notice Aria clutch the parchment slightly tighter as if afraid I'll take it away. I would do no such thing of course, but I can't really blame her. That little piece of paper is all she has left of the one boy I think she's ever truly fallen for.

"He'll be back soon," I say softly. Her shoulders shake and tears fall onto the letter. I doubt these are the first to soak into that parchment. "He'll be back soon," I repeat.

"You don't know that," she says in distress. "You don't know if he'll be back two weeks from now or two years from now! You _don't know!_"

I get up and sit down next to her. She leans against me and wraps her arms around me. I hug her tightly and let her cry.

"I asked him not to go," she sobs. "I asked him to stay."

"I'm sorry, love," I murmur, kissing the top of her head. I hate that something as trivial as a boy – albeit a boy I happen to approve of very much – can get her this upset. I don't understand it. It's not as though she'll never see him again. All I can do is hold her and be here for her in hopes that she'll see that everything will be okay. In the end, everything will work out. I hope.

x.x

Jake

First thing I do is head to Diagon Alley, where I stop at Gringotts to get some muggle currency in exchange for as much wizard money I could scrap up from what I had on me at the end of the school year. I also withdraw a bit from my vault, get about half of that exchanged, and stow away the other half lest I ever find myself needing wizard money in the future. Then I step back into the frightening yet fascinating muggle world.

I spend a few hours wandering aimlessly around the neighborhood near the hotel I suspect my mum is staying at. I eat breakfast at a little café, and sit in my corner booth for an hour or more, simply watching the early morning traffic slowly start up outside.

By eight o'clock, I figure there's enough going on that I won't look weird or suspicious walking into the fancy hotel. I head back up the street and enter through the huge revolving door, appearing in a very ornate and decorative lobby. I look around, surprised to see so many people already up and about for the day. Finally spotting the front desk, which takes up an entire wall, I head that way.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the desk asks kindly. I smile at her, trying my hardest to show her that I'm just an innocent kid here to see his mum.

"Yes, could you possibly tell me the room number of Annabelle Parks? She's my mum," I add, just so she'll feel a little guilty if she has to say no.

"Oh sure," she says with a smile. I'm actually a bit surprised. I was fully expecting her to say no, at which point I would stake out the lobby until I spotted my mum coming downstairs.

"Looks like number 864. That's the eighth floor," she adds, as though I'm stupid or something. I just smile.

"Thanks a lot," I say.

I've never done this before, but from watching the other muggles, I get the general idea of what to do as I wait for an … _elevator_. When the wall slides open to reveal a small box, people file in.

"Room for one more," a woman says kindly to me. I look around, shrug, and squeeze into the cramped space. The doors slide shut again.

"Which floor?" someone asks. A general chorus of different numbers volleys on the poor man who asked, who hurriedly presses the numbers on a panel on the wall. Not hearing my floor, I add to his work.

"Eight."

He presses the number, and it lights up. Having never taken much interest in muggles, I've never realized how fascinating all this _technology _is.

The _elevator_ moves upward, filling my stomach with the weirdest sensation. It stops at levels three, four, six, seven, and finally eight. I get off alone and stand in the hall for a few seconds. What was that number again? 864? Yeah, yeah that's it.

I make my way down the hallway, watching the numbers on my left as I go. 850, 852, 854… I keep going.

When I reach 864, right near the end of the hall, I hesitate. I haven't seen my mother in over eight years, and now I'm standing here, right outside her hotel room. My pulse quickens slightly. Well ... it's now or never.

I rap on the door three times, then let my arm fall to my side, and I wait. A moment later the door opens just a crack, and two familiar brown eyes peer at me suspiciously.

"Hello, Mum."

* * *

**A/N**: A bit shorter than last time, but not terribly so…right? Please review with all comments, questions, or (_constructive_) criticism! Thanks!


	9. Shocking Pasts and Shifting Futures

**A/N**: Ha, so I realized that Jake is actually eighteen in this fic, not seventeen, so I had to go back through the last two chapters to edit the fact that his mum has been gone _thirteen_ years, not twelve. Minor lapse of sanity. Nothing abnormal here. Please continue!

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Shocking Pasts and Shifting Futures**

_Chapter eight recap:_

_I rap on the door tree times, then let my arm fall to my side, and I wait. Two minutes later the door opens just a crack, and two familiar brown eyes peer at me suspiciously._

"_Hello, Mum."_

_x.x_

Jake

The door opens to reveal a slim woman about Aria's height, with long dark brown hair, dressed in tight jeans and a tank top. She barely looks older than she did the last time I saw her eight and a half years ago on my tenth birthday.

"Jake?" she asks uncertainly, still gripping the door as though poised to slam it in my face. I nod at her, not smiling. She blinks at me before her flawless face breaks into a smooth smile, that I notice doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's been awhile," I say rather coldly, and she nods, still smiling.

"Time sure flies! Look at you! Last time I saw you … you were only this tall," she says, holding her hand up just below her shoulders. I shrug.

"It's called growing."

"Still as funny as ever," she says with a fake laugh. I shrug again. Yeah right. "Well, why don't you come in? We can sit down and talk."

"Sure," I say, just to humor her. She steps back and grants me entrance to her suite, consisting of a sitting room, a huge closet containing one single suitcase, a bathroom, and a bedroom. She stands in the doorway to the bedroom and closes the door, shutting out my view of the fancy room.

"How old are you now?" she asks, and irritation flickers through me. She can't even be bothered to keep track of her only son's birthdays?

"Eighteen," I say darkly, perching on the arm of the uncomfortable-looking sofa. She looks surprised.

"Already? I was thinking you were more like … fifteen or sixteen! No wonder you looked so much older! _Eighteen_? The years just fly by, don't they?" my mother says with amusement.

_For you maybe, _I think bitterly. _Not for a ten-year-old boy who wants nothing more than to see his own mum_. She notices my silence, and her smile disappears.

"Jake, what do you want?" she asks wearily, pushing her hand through her long hair. I look at her; _really _look at her. What is she doing with her life? Traveling all over the world, a new boyfriend every other week, I'm sure, or else multiple boyfriends in different parts of the world that will probably never find out about each other.

"I wanted to ask you about Dad," I say bluntly. She blinks at me in surprise. Her expression turns sour.

"What about him? He left us, remember? Wanted nothing to do with us – or more specifically, _you_," she snaps, and I feel as though she's struck me. "Oh yes," she sneers, seeing my surprise. "I didn't tell you it then, because you were just a child, and it would have broken your _dear_ little heart, but your father left because of _you_. He _loved _me, Jake. But when you were born … well I'm just surprised it took him five years to be honest."

I stare at her in disbelief. I search her cruel and unfeeling expression, and I wonder why I ever wanted her to love me. Because as I sit there, looking into the face of my only known blood relative, I don't see a trace of love. I see loathing, contempt, and … jealousy. Jealousy and lies.

"I don't think I believe you," I tell her quietly. "I think you're lying through your teeth. I think the real reason Dad left was because of _you._ And really, I can't say I blame him," I say, glaring at her coolly. Her mouth opens in surprise.

"Why … you…"

"Bella?" The knock at the door of the suite silences her. She glances at the door, then back to me, her expression uncertain. "Bella are you in there?"

Finally she goes to the door and opens it just a crack.

"Not now, Blake, I'm busy," she hisses.

"Thought we were meeting for breakfast," a man's voice says. I feel like I'm going to be sick. My mum glances back at me. _Excuse me_, she mouths before stepping into the hall, shutting the door behind her. I sigh and glance around the room.

My gaze comes to rest on her purse, sitting on the little coffee table in front of the couch. Its contents are spilled out onto the table, and beneath a compact mirror, I see the corners of two photographs poking out. Glancing toward the door quickly, I get up and pull the two pictures free.

The first one is a woman who looks similar to Mum, only with lighter hair, and a prettier smile. Beside her a little girl with two long braids grins at the camera, brandishing a toy broom happily. I flip to the backside to see someone has written _Annabelle's fourth birthday_ in fading ink. That woman has to be … she must be my grandmother. I look at the other picture. It's the same woman as before, only much older looking – at least fifty, maybe older. She's sitting on the steps of a beautiful blue Victorian-style house with a huge white wrap-around porch. She waves at the camera with a serene smile.

On the back of the second photograph, in the same handwriting as the other picture, someone has written: _My new house – June 2015_. That was last year. But Mum told me when I was little that I didn't _have_ grandparents – her parents were both dead, and my father's parents hated us.

I set the pictures back down just as the door opens. My mother stands there, looking at me suspiciously. Her gaze darts to the pictures on the table.

"You lied to me," I say coldly, standing up. I find pleasure in the fact that I tower over her. She raises her eyebrows at me.

"About what?" she asks uninterestedly.

"You once told me I didn't _have_ grandparents," I snarl, brandishing the pictures at her. She stares at me calmly.

"As far as I'm concerned, you don't. My mother is as good as dead in my eyes."

"Then we have something in common, _Mother_," I hiss. She raises her eyebrows at me once more. "You're as good as dead in _my_ eyes." And with that, I throw the picture of her as a child down on the table, and, still clutching the picture of my grandmother, spin on my foot and disapparate.

When I open my eyes, I find myself staring at that blue house. Without realizing it, this was the place I'd been thinking of as I apparated, so, obviously, this is where I wound up. I look at that beautiful house. It can't be that simple. I mean, of course magic makes _everything_ easier, but surely apparition isn't _that_ easy?

I look down at the photograph in my hand, then back up at the house. It's the same one. The number in the photograph shows a one and a four and what could possibly the side of either a two or a three. The number on the real house before me is one forty-two.

Figuring I may as well get it over with, I make my way up to the front door and ring the bell. I wait a couple minutes, and no one answers. Sighing, but not ready to give up yet, I settle on the front steps, exactly the same place as my grandmother sat a little over a year ago when this picture was taken.

I try not to think about what Mum said. She was lying about Dad … she had to be. He wouldn't have left because of me … would he have? Surely not.

_Forget it. Mum's always lied. No reason she should start telling the truth now._

I shouldn't have gone to see her. Even though if I hadn't I would never have gotten _here_. But still … there's a reason she goes to London each year, and it isn't to see _me_. With her job as a fashion photographer/critic/journalist, she travels to pageants, fashion shows, new line release shoots, and other kinds of related fashion-y things all over the world. Each year on July third and fourth, _Teen Witch Weekly_ holds a junior beauty pageant, and my mother is the one who covers the highly-esteemed event.

I sit there staring at the photograph of the woman who, if I didn't live with the Weasleys, would probably be my closest and favorite relative. In the picture she's smiling jubilantly, her arms resting on her knees. She doesn't look _old_. Not really. She's probably younger than Ron's mum, Mrs. Weasley.

"Can I help you, young man?"

I look up to see the same woman standing before me rather guardedly, no trace of that beautiful smile on her face. I smile at her anyway, and she narrows her eyes at me.

"Hello," I say softly, not moving from my position so as not to startle her. She stares at me.

"Hi."

"Are you Annabelle Parks' mother?" I ask. Her expression changes from suspicion to wonder.

"Yes… And you are…?"

"My name is Jake. Anna's my mum."

If I'm expecting her to rush forward and hug me, declaring that her wildest wishes had finally come true, I'd be sorely disappointed. But as it is, I'm not expecting her to do that. Instead tears fill her eyes and she slowly sets down the bag of groceries she was carrying. She comes toward me and places one cool hand under my chin, lifting it, forcing me to look her in the eye.

"I never thought this day would come," she whispers, her other hand on my cheek. I look at her, into eyes holding nothing but love and kindness, the same color as Mum's, yet holding none of the hostility and hurt. Only love.

I swallow, not sure what to say to this woman suddenly overcome with emotion. I slowly stand, and she takes a few steps back. She's about Mum's height, maybe a bit shorter. She looks up at me.

"Well, as long as you're here," she says, suddenly all business. She shoves the grocery bag into my arms. "Hold onto that for me."

I grin at her back as she goes to the front door and unlocks it with a key rather than a wand. She lets the door swing inward, and stands back to let me through. I step into the pretty house uncertainly.

"Kitchen's to the right," she says, leading the way through a small formal dining room and into the kitchen. I set the bag on the counter.

While she puts the food away, I seat myself on one of the stools sitting against the breakfast bar and look around. On the wall in the dining room is one single picture – a family portrait. Mum, as a little girl, standing in front of her parents, all of them smiling at the camera.

"Doesn't she look happy?"

I spin around to see my grandmother staring at the picture sadly. I glance back at the portrait, then back at her, unsure of whether or not her question requires an answer.

"She was such a happy little girl. I never knew what went wrong," she says softly.

"What do you mean?" I ask quietly.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess … I guess it started when she was a bit younger than you… how old are you?" she asks, cutting her eyes to me quickly.

"Eighteen," I answer, surprised that it doesn't bother me that she didn't know, the way it did with Mum.

"Eighteen," she whispers, and quite suddenly her eyes fill with tears, shocking me. "Eighteen?" she asks in disbelief. I nod at her, watching as a single tear courses its way down her slightly wrinkled face.

"I missed thirteen years of my only grandson's life," she murmurs to herself, shaking her head sadly.

"Yeah, but it wasn't your fault," I say. She looks at me, and stares at me for so long I have to look away.

"That woman broke you," she says sorrowfully, her voice teary.

"Excuse me?" I ask rather indignantly. She gives me a sad smile.

"The day that woman left you was the biggest mistake of her life." I'm starting to understand that _that woman _is supposed to mean my mum.

"You were such a sweet little boy, just showing magical signs, and starting to learn how to use it too. And you simply adored your parents. You were such a daddy's boy. And then she left you with those people you didn't even know – had never met them – and you were expected to stay with them and be happy? I still don't understand why she wouldn't let me take you," she says unhappily. I blink at her in surprise.

"What?" I ask.

"What what?" she replies sharply, and I almost smile.

"You wanted to take me?" I ask quietly, looking down.

"Of course I did! I love you!" she says fiercely. "Why wouldn't I want to take you?"

I look back up to see her gazing at me in concern, confusion, and slight anger, though the last part could be directed at Mum right now. "Mum told me I didn't have any grandparents when she left me with the Weasleys," I murmur, and her expression hardens to anger."

"Of course she did," she mutters darkly. "What else has she told you?"

I open my mouth to answer, but I'm cut off by the doorbell ringing. We both jump in surprise, and she looks over her shoulder at the front hall in slight confusion.

"Will you get that? I should probably finish putting this away," she says, gesturing to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

I oblige, figuring if I'm going to intrude on her house much longer, I might as well help out. I get up and amble to the front door. Before opening it, I glance around curiously, taking in the entrance hall. The decorations are sparse – a single house plant in the corner under the window, plain white lace curtains, no pictures. The lack of pictures kind of unsettles me, as all of the Weasley houses I've ever been to have been positively plastered with photographs, not to mention Harry's house, which has an entire spiraling staircase _and_ a huge wall devoted to nothing but photos.

I finally pull the front door open to a very pretty girl with curly brown hair and honey-colored eyes standing there with a school bag slung over her shoulder. She looks up at me in surprise.

"Hello … is Mrs. Parks home?" she asks, eyeing me uncertainly. I shrug and stand back.

"Yeah," I say, holding the door to let her in. She walks past me rather reluctantly, still watching me as she goes through the dining room and to the kitchen.

From the front hall I hear her ask, "Mrs. Parks, who was that guy that answered your door? 'Cause he was _cute_."

I hear my grandmother chuckle. "That was my grandson, Jake."

"I didn't know you had a grandson," the girl says in surprise. I smirk despite myself.

"Well now you do."

x.x

Danielle Kline

"How old is he?" I ask Mrs. Parks curiously, referring to her extremely cute grandson standing in the entrance hall.

"Too old for you," she says sternly, shaking a wooden spoon at me. I roll my eyes.

"I'm sixteen! I'll be seventeen in a month and a half," I remind her. "And if I was a witch, I'd be of age then," I add knowingly. I've always been fascinated with the wizarding world Mrs. Parks shared with me when I was little, and used to come over here while my parents worked.

"Yes, and he's eighteen. Too old for you," she says with a tone of finality. I'm not giving up yet.

"One year older? Wow, Mrs. Parks, that's _old_," I say sarcastically. She looks at me sharply.

"Don't take that tone with me young lady. You stay away from my grandson, you understand?" she snaps, glaring at me. I try a look of innocent indignity, but her expression simply hardens.

"I'm serious, Danni. Stay away from Jake. He's a good boy, and I think he's known enough hurt in his life to last a lifetime, so don't you go working your charms on him. Now, what did you bring back from the library?" she asks, pointing at my book bag.

I reluctantly let the abrupt change in subject slide as I set my bag on the counter with a quiet _thunk. _"Oh, I didn't go," I joke, trying to lighten the mood. "These aren't books – they're bricks. To fend off any book-snatchers on my way home, you know." She smiles sardonically.

"Of course; how silly of me. Because of course the book-snatchers would be after you when you have only bricks. What did you learn out on the streets today then?"

"Nothing important," I say nonchalantly. She shakes her head at me and smiles fondly.

"Oh really?" she asks, and I grin.

"Yep. Oh, look at that! I guess I _did_ have a couple of spares," I say in mock-surprise, pulling out a book and brandishing it at her. "Oh, but you've read this one. What a shame – guess it's fire fuel now," I add with a shrug. She chuckles.

"Better go throw it in the grate then," she says. This is what I love about Mrs. Parks. She can take a little sarcastic remark and turn it into a full-blown hilarious and fun conversation that can go on for almost an hour when she really gets into it. She's like the grandmother I never had.

"Okay, I will," I say, spinning around, fully intending to head into the living room and toss the book – which happens to be something by Charles Dickens that Mrs. Parks has read about a thousand times - on the completely spotlessly clean and empty grate (because who in their right mind has a fire going in summer? Plus, Mrs. Parks goes on this spring cleaning binge every year, and she goes extra overboard with the grate in the fireplace). Instead, I see Jake standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, a rather sad smile playing across his face at our playful banter.

"Or not," I whisper. He really_ is_ good looking. His nearly black hair has the slightest sections of lighter highlights, and his brown eyes are just like Mrs. Parks', except there's this unbelievable sadness and emptiness in them despite the smile on his face that makes me ache. He's tall, and even slouching against the wall as he is, he's a good head taller than me. His eyes flicker between Mrs. Parks and me, before resting on me for a few seconds longer. Slowly, a less depressing-looking smile spreads across his face.

"I'm Jake," he says, holding out a hand. I slowly lift my hand and place it in his much larger one. His hands are hard and calloused, but strangely smooth, which doesn't make any sense at all, but that's how they feel.

"Danni," I answer. And as his hand tightens around mine, it feels as though something changes just slightly, as though my entire future just shifted because of this simple, friendly action. As though this moment just defined the rest of my life.**

* * *

A/N**: That'll leave you wondering, huh? Well, you'll be waiting quite awhile to find out, so don't dwell on it _too_ much, okay? Did you love it? Hate it? Please review!


	10. Sparks Fly

**A/N**: Quick shout out to **Ms. Anna** who had to endure my terrible ramblings, the content of which I will address… right now.

First off, I really do wish you would all stop reading into tiny little actions so much. Just because Jake was being all _polite_ by shaking Danni's hand and _smiling _at her _does not _mean he's suddenly in love with her! Got it? _Not in love! NOT!_ Yes, Danni happens to think Jake is _incredibly_ cute, and _she _is interested in _him_ NOT the other way around! Jake is head over heels for ARIA remember? He was just being polite last chapter! Jeesh!

Okay, we're gonna take a little time jump now, because otherwise my story will become extremely long and strung out, and as much as _you_ might enjoy that, I certainly do not. So we're fast-forwarding. Here we go! Oh, and it's super long too! Yaaay!

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Sparks Fly**

Aria

It's been two weeks since I woke up to find a letter sitting on my bedside table written in Jake's familiar handwriting. Healer training is going well so far, and Sean is training full time with the Ireland Quidditch Team now. And even though we see each other every night, the house seems empty without Jake around. Too quiet…

"Granger, you're needed in the Wilifrom Ward."

I look up to see one of my supervisors standing over me, clipboard in hand as always. I stand and smile at him. He doesn't smile back.

"Thank you, Healer Renolds," I say graciously before slipping past him and leaving the break room. Being called to the Wilifrom Ward is rare for a first-year trainee. So rare, I have to wonder if I've done anything _wrong_ and am being called there to be reprimanded or something. Though I can't imagine why I would be called to a ward and not my supervisor's office. Unless … is the _Head_ Supervisor's office is in the Wilifrom Ward?

I take as much time as I dare walking downstairs. I pass several second-year trainees, a small group of brand new Healers, some interns, which comes after second-year training, and every now and then the odd _real_ Healer, with actual experience. The doors to the Wilifrom Ward look daunting as I stand there staring at the entrance.

_Oh pull yourself together,_ I scold myself. _It's just like any other ward!_ Except that it's not. The Wilifrom Ward is not only full of _the_ smartest, most successful, most skilled, and most prestigious Healers of, like, _ever_, but the only trainees ever called there _stay _there their entire Healer careers. And a first-year trainee has _never _been introduced to the ward permanently. The most first-years ever get to see of the place is when we take a quick tour of it one of the first days in training while all the upper level trainees sneer at us.

With a deep breath I push open the doors to the ward. The long hall before me is bustling with activity, as I assume it always is. There are various doors leading off of the hall, leading to large rooms containing four or five beds each. Several of the second-year trainees working nudge each other when they see me. The interns all roll their eyes and go back to work. I sigh and figure I might as well get it over with.

I march right up to the first friendly-looking person I see – a second-year trainee whose name is currently unknown. He looks down at me and offers me an amused smile.

"Can I help you…?" he asks, his eyes traveling to my nametag, which is clipped haphazardly on my left hip, barely clinging to my pastel blue robes, which is what all the first-year trainees wear. "Aria Granger?" he asks in surprise.

I grimace. It's well known how great of a Healer my mum was, although I was pretty shocked when I started studying Healing and found out she was one of the most revered Healers St. Mungo's had ever seen. It never fails to bother me that people automatically assume I'm brilliant like my mother was.

"I was sent here – called here – and I don't know why," I state bluntly. He blinks at me, glances down at the clipboard in his hand – _does everyone here have a clipboard or what?_ – and then looks back up at me.

"Yeah… Healer J wants to see you," he says with a shrug. Wondering who this mysterious "Healer J" is, I follow him as he turns around and leads me deeper into the ward.

He leads me right to the very last door of the ward and stops short. I nearly crash into him, but I save myself just in time, and quickly occupy myself with patting my hair to look like I wasn't about to fall to the floor.

"Healer J? Granger's here to see you!" he calls through the door. I hear a muffled reply, which obviously means "come in" as my tour guide throws the door open and gestures for me to go in. He gives me a grin.

"If you ever need anything…" he trails off. "Name's Drew Mack," he says at last, sticking his hand out. I shake it and smile up at him.

"Is there really need for me to introduce myself?" I ask with a slight laugh. He grins.

"Aria Granger, daughter of Hermione Granger, Healer extraordinaire," he says, bowing theatrically. I sigh.

"Right," I mutter. "I should probably go…"

"Yeah, me too. Nice meeting you!" he says before jogging off and disappearing into one of the patient rooms. I stick my head around the door.

Whoever this "Healer J" person is, they have their back to me as I enter. I stand at their desk uncertainly.

"Sit," the voice commands, and I obey instantly. I wait an excruciating twenty seconds as the Healer finishes something on the other desk behind the desk I'm currently sitting in front of. How busy do you have to be before getting a _second _desk?

"So, Healer Granger. How are you liking training?" Healer "J" turns around, revealing the beautiful and very familiar face of my mum's once best friend, Evalynn Jorgansin. I grin at her.

"Eva!" I exclaim, and she smiles. "I didn't know you were head of this ward!"

"Just recently promoted," she says with a wink. "And it's Healer Jorgansin," she adds mock-sternly, pretending to glare at me. I love Eva. I haven't seen in her in almost a year – not since my seventeenth birthday – or her daughter Madison, who is simply adorable. It's so cute – she just recently turned seven, and she has quite the crush on a certain Henry Weasley.

"So … did you call me here just to talk or …?" I trail off uncertainly, suddenly realizing this is her _office_, not just a nice little sitting room. Having a personal relationship with the Head of the Wilifrom Ward has its advantages – for one, I look extremely well-connected – but it could also give people the impression that I'm trying to work my way up on personal relationships with Heads of Wards, which I don't want.

"Yes and no. I know it's only been two weeks, and I'm sure you're sick of hearing how you show the exact same potential your mum showed, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. It's all true by the way. You _do_ show potential – extreme potential – and as much as I'd love having you here to put those snotty trainees in their places, it's way too early for any of that. You've only been here what … two weeks now? You still have five and a half months of classes to pass before we can even think about assigning you to a ward.

"I don't want to pressure you, Aria, but I'm going to be watching you closely over the next few months. Your mum was the best we ever had, and if you're half of what she was, then you could very well be the best as well. I want you in this ward the second you pass your final courses, and I'm going to have to fight hard to get you, especially since Healers Renolds and White won't want you to go to a permanent ward until at least your second year – very few firsties get assigned only six months in." Eva ends her little speech by giving me a real look this time, gazing at me levelly. I gulp.

"But no first-year trainee has _ever_ been introduced to the Wilifrom Ward," I tell her, as though she doesn't already know. She smiles.

"You'll be the first," she agrees.

"What if I'm not good enough?" I murmur, voicing that same fear once more. She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Not good enough? Aria, it's only two weeks in and you've already bypassed all of your classmates! You're at the top of your class, and you're worried that you might not be _good enough_?! What do you think your mum would have to say about that?" she asks. I wrinkle my brow.

"I dunno," I say truthfully. She turns a picture around on her desk so it's facing me.

"Ask her," she says with a grin. I look at the face of my mum frozen in time, looking just as young and beautiful as she had been the day she died, over six years ago. Frankly, I'm a bit shocked that Eva keeps a portrait of my mother on her desk, but then again, they _were _best friends. Mum smiles gently at me.

"Long time no see," she says, and I roll my eyes at the portrait. "And Aria … I always believed in you," she murmurs. Against my will tears fill my eyes. It's been six years, and I've gotten quite used to her not being around anymore, but sometimes the memories of what used to be are just too overwhelming. I smile at her through my tears.

"I miss you, Mum," I whisper, touching the frame gently. She smiles back.

"I'm right here, sweetheart. Only a picture frame away." And then, without a word of good-bye, she walks out of her frame, leaving the canvas blank. Just like she did in real life – left the world without a word of good-bye, leaving it bleak, pale, and sadly plain.

I rid myself of the tears and look around Eva's office. I spot a pretty purple flower sitting on the windowsill in a vase, one that's most likely from her expansive flower garden at her country house that I spent countless summer days at as a young child. I remember picking numerous flowers for Mum from her garden each summer, and every time I gave her a new one, she'd exclaim over it and make such a big deal about it, as if I'd just gotten her a brand new racing broom or something. She was always great like that.

There are lots of photographs of Madison on the wall, ranging from ages zero to seven, all of them adorable. The most recent one sits in a frame on Eva's desk. Maddie's dark hair is in corkscrew curls, and she's grinning at the camera with a wide, toothy smile. She's holding a fuzzy orange kitten up to her cheek, and she's surrounded by huge, colorful flowers. Eva, while being an exceptional Healer and flower enthusiast, is a very talented photographer.

"I should go," I sigh at last, looking back at Eva, who is watching me closely. "My break was over ten minutes ago, and I have a class in five."

"Off you go then," Eva says. We both stand, and she comes around her desk. She wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug. "If you ever need _anything_, please don't hesitate to ask, sweetie. I love you, you know that." I look up at her and smile and nod. Eva could never replace Mum, but she's done an awfully good job trying throughout the years.

"Oh, and Aria?" she asks, making me pause on my way to the door. I look back. "Maddie's wondering when she can come over and play … with Henry of course," she says with a grin. I smile back.

"Whenever she wants. She should come over more often – now that I'm out of Hogwarts I can actually spend time with her!" I say with a grin. Eva smiles back a bit sadly.

"She looks up to you so much, you know. You're like the sister she's never had."

I smile at Eva, wishing she'd cheer up. I've heard a little of how much of hard time she had getting pregnant with Maddie in the first place, and when she was born, Eva almost didn't make it. She and her husband have decided they're not having any more kids because it's just too much of a risk for Eva. I feel bad for her – I know she's always wanted a big family.

"Maddie can come over _any_ time," I say again. "I know you must get so sick of her," I tease, knowing she loves that little girl more than anything in the entire world. She grins back.

"Oh yes, she's such a pain," she agrees sarcastically. Maddie's the sweetest, politest little girl on earth. I don't know where she gets it from, but it's adorable.

"You should get going or you'll be late," Eva warns. I jump to attention and practically run out the door. I'm almost to the ward entrance when my path is suddenly intercepted by a tall, grinning blonde.

"Hey, Granger. Been promoted yet?" he teases. I smile up at Drew, the same guy who I talked to earlier.

"Nah. Who'd hire a firstie like me?" I joke. He chuckles.

"Didn't get fired did ya?" he asks with raised eyebrows. I shake my head.

"Course not! Me? I'm the most valuable trainee here!" I scoff in mock-arrogance. He grins.

"So what _was_ your meeting about?"

"Since when are nosy second-years allowed to talk to lowly firsties?" I ask. He laughs a real laugh then. It makes his entire face light up in away that reminds me achingly of Jake.

"You're an interesting specimen, Granger. I mean, c'mon. Daughter of one of the best Healers in St. Mungo's history, goddaughter of Healer J – hey, you got me wondering."

"How'd you know Eva was my godmother?" I ask in surprise. He nearly chokes at my use of her first name.

"I was guessing – it was well-known that Healers Granger and Jorgansin were great friends. But you actually call her _Eva_? Last time I tried that she nearly fired me!" he manages weakly. I laugh.

"I can't imagine Eva firing anyone," I say honestly. His face adopts a serious look.

"Oh, it's scary when she gets mad, Granger. I swear she was gonna murder me."

I grin, not quite able to envision Eva yelling at _anyone_, let alone someone as charming and charismatic as Drew.

"I'd love to stay and debate this all day, but I'm late for my class, and Healer Longe will probably yell at me," I say with a sigh.

"Well then, I'll have to escort you there to help you make up a plausible excuse," Drew says mock-gallantly, offering me his arm. I laugh and slip my arm through his.

"Whatever, let's go."

And so we do.

.x.

Another week passes with no word from Jake. I now spend every Monday and Wednesday temping in whatever ward I'm assigned to without complaint, and every Tuesday and Thursday in classes. Every other Friday I have off now, which is a huge relief, as it gives me time to actually _do_ the homework we're set for courses. The Fridays I don't have off, I'm pretty much forced to work in the Wilifrom Ward, although not officially – _officially_, I have _every_ Friday off, but Eva claims that if I'm ever going to get good enough for her ward, I need _real_ experience, and not "that crappy excuse for work they have you doing in minor burns and stings".

Drew has become like a brother/mentor to me. He reminds me of Jake a lot, so it's like a double bonus – I get a bunch of help and experience that I wouldn't normally get if not for him, and I don't miss Jake quite so much (though I still miss him like crazy).

Right now, the ward is nearly deserted, as only a few interns and a handful of second-year trainees are lingering around. Most others have the day off. I'm sitting on a random hospital gurney that just happens to be sitting in main hall of the ward. Drew is sitting on the floor on the opposite wall, staring at me. I stare back.

He stares.

I stare back.

His left eye twitches. I keep staring. His eyebrow twitches. I keep staring. Finally he throws his arms in the air in defeat.

"I give up! Aria Granger, you are officially the queen of staring contests! I have been defeated," he says theatrically, making me smile. It's times like this that he reminds me of Jake the most.

"You two are so weird," one of Drew's fellow trainees comments, plopping down on the floor beside him. I've caught glimpses of her throughout the weeks, and she's never shown the slightest signs of wanting to get to know me. And now, here she is.

"Why thank you," Drew says, as if this is the biggest compliment he has ever received. I roll my eyes at him fondly. The other girl smiles as well.

"I'm Kay," she says to me, offering me her smile. I smile back in slight surprise.

"I'm Aria," I say with a shrug. She laughs.

"I know. Everyone knows who you are. Some of the other trainees hate you, you know. I always thought you were kind of stuck up, but if you're friends with Drew, you must be alright. Or mentally damaged, but either way…" she trails off with a grin, and I laugh. I like this girl. It's nice to have friends. Most of my fellow first-years are either threatened by me, or think I'm a stuck-up know-it-all who thinks I'm too good for them. Which isn't true, of course. I've never given any reason for them to believe such nonsense, but whatever. If they want to be stupid, I say why not? I'm not going to force them into friendship.

"How can you bear it?" she asks at last, much more serious now. I give her a puzzled look, and she elaborates. "I mean … I've seen how the other firsties treat you – they either hate you or are afraid of you, looking at you like they're afraid you'll eat them or something-" I have to smile at that "-and most of the second-years think you're a wannabe know-it-all. Even some of the interns think you're some sort of little brat who's trying too hard. I would hate it if everyone thought that about me!"

"Oh," I say with another shrug. "I guess I just ignore it. I mean, the point of becoming a Healer isn't really to make friends, you know? It's to be the best Healer you can be so you can help people." Kay looks thoughtful for awhile.

"That's pretty wise," she says at last. "But I like having friends." I smile at that. I've noticed she happens to have a _lot_ of friends. But I can't blame her – she's awfully nice.

"I have friends," I say with yet another shrug. "Jut not … here."

"Yeah?" Kay asks, looking interested. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

I give a weird smile. I know it's weird because it _feels_ weird. I couldn't name it if you asked me to. But I can tell it looks strange. I notice Drew shift ever so slightly, and his eyes suddenly become glued to the spotless floor tiles as though they hold the secret of life in them. I wish he wouldn't do that. I don't like the idea of Drew fancying me.

"No," I say at last. "I don't have a boyfriend." Drew flicks his gaze back to me, but quickly averts it when he sees me watching him. Kay glances back and forth between us before deciding to change the subject.

"So your mum …" she says uncertainly, obviously unable to tell whether or not this is a touchy subject. "…she was an amazing Healer."

"I wouldn't know," I say honestly, and she looks surprised. "I didn't even know she _was_ a Healer until I started looking into Healing as a second year in Hogwarts. I mean … I dunno what I thought she did. Maybe I knew she was a Healer, but I didn't know she was …." I wave my hand around vaguely, unable to find the right word.

"Amazing?" Kay offers, and I smile.

"Yeah."

"If you don't mind me asking … were you … close?" she asks uncertainly, and I offer her a smile to let her know it's okay.

"My mum … she was all I had when I was growing up," I say softly. I see that I have Drew's attention again when he looks back up at me and doesn't look away. "It's a really long story, but I didn't know who my father was or anything about him, so it was just my mum and me. We were super close. It was so terrible when she died," I whisper, drawing my knees up onto the gurney and leaning back against the wall behind me with my eyes closed.

"How'd she die?" Kay asks in that same whispery voice. I sigh.

"Car crash," I say, and I hear her choke in disbelief. That's how most people react when they hear how she died. A mere _car crash _kill the most brilliant witch of her age? _How?!_

"I know," I murmur. "It's nuts. But when the car … when it rolled, she was knocked unconscious, and the first people on the scene were Muggles, and … well, let's just say if she'd been found by wizards she'd probably still be alive," I say softly. I open my eyes to see Kay looking at me with what I've dubbed the 'how-terrible-for-you-I'm-glad-that's-never-happened-to-me' look.

"That's so terrible," she whispers. I smile sadly. "So what happened to you after that? If you didn't know your dad…"

"Oh, that was the easy part," I say with a smile. "Turns out, my best friend was my father's adopted son." She gives me an incredulous look and I grin.

"Your father is Ron Weasley, right?" Drew cuts in, and Kay's eyes widen in surprise when I nod. "And your brother … isn't he training with the Ireland Quidditch team this summer?" I nod again.

"Yeah. He was the number _two_ student player in the country last year," I say with a grin, holding up two fingers for emphasis. Drew cocks his head at me.

"Who was number one?" he asks curiously. I grin, and he gives me a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look.

"I was," I say simply. He shakes his head.

"Of course you were," he says in awe. "And you're _here_ instead of making the big bucks playing pro Quidditch? Are you _mental?"_

"I didn't want that life," I say simply. "I mean yeah, Quidditch is _great_, and I love it, but I don't want to travel all over the world for maybe five or ten years, then be booted off the team because another amazing seventeen-year-old crops up. I'd rather have a solid job I can keep until I decide to retire, move on, or until I snuff it," I say, and they both smile.

I can't help but notice how cute they look together, sitting in the exact same position. Kay with her chestnut brown hair and bright hazel eyes, sitting next to Drew with his golden curly locks and warm brown eyes – they'd make a great couple. Except for the fact that the sparkle I notice in Drew's eyes when he smiles at me isn't really there when he smiles at Kay, and I wish it was. Because I really don't want Drew to fancy me. I feel terrible because of it, but I don't fancy him back, and I can't imagine feeling that way about him. He's too much like a brother to me, and no matter _how_ much he reminds me of Jake, he just _isn't_.

"Ahem."

We all look up to see Eva standing over us with raised eyebrows. I sit up straight, and Kay and Drew scramble to their feet.

"I like to see my Healers getting to know each other, but there _is _work to be done, you know," she says rather coldly. She glares at me, and I reluctantly rise to my feet as well. I know I said I don't want preferential treatment from Eva, but I'm still getting used to having to act like I'm afraid of her when she goes into 'Head-Healer Mode'.

One of the best things about Eva as Head though, is that she calls all of the St. Mungo's employees, from the lowliest firstie to the most revered supervisor, 'Healer'. Even though, technically, you're not a Healer until you've passed intern. I think she does it boost our confidence and make us better Healers in the long run, but she claims to do it just because she likes giving us all big heads, which I know isn't true.

"Alright, you three," she says rather fondly considering she just got done telling us off, "back to work." She even offers us a small smile before continuing on her way. Kay looks after her in surprise.

"Did she just _smile _at me?" she asks in shock.

"Hey, you get to be good enough friends with her goddaughter over there and you might even have her calling you by your first name," Drew says with a teasing gleam in his eye. I roll my eyes when Kay looks over at me.

"Yes, she really is my godmother," I mutter. "And no, that's _not_ the only reason I'm working in here," I add rather viciously. Kay looks offended.

"I know that!" she says indignantly. "You're the best firstie here! None of the others are half of what you could be. I don't blame Healer J for grabbing you right away – by the end of your first year, all the wards will be going to war over you, but she'll already have you. Smart of her, really. And she couldn't have possibly known what potential you have unless she'd known you your whole life, and therefore knew to keep an eye on you," Kay explains with a shrug, and I find myself warming to her with every word. At least _she _understands.

"We should get to work," I say rather glumly, and the other two agree reluctantly. And so begins my friendship with two second-year trainees in the most prestigious ward at St. Mungo's Hospital, something no "firstie" has ever before accomplished.

x.x

Jake

I've been here for just over a month now and I still haven't asked my gran about my father. I haven't even told her how I found her other than showing her the picture I took from Mum and refusing to say anymore. I hate myself for being this way, but I almost don't want to continue with my search, because right now I have the unconditional love of my grandmother, who dotes on me the way grandmothers should, and no one has ever spoiled me the way she does.

Oh, the Weasleys tried, but there were so _many _of them. It was common knowledge that the youngest kids got the most attention. You could always pull seniority with the little kids, claiming you got to do this and that because you were the _oldest_, but the littlest kids always got the real prize – undivided attention from the grandparents (or as undivided as you could get as a Weasley).

Danni and I have gotten to be really good friends as well. I can talk to her and not feel weird about it anymore, though she still smiles at me charmingly and sits a little too close to me every now and then. I try not to let it bother me. The fact is, I miss Aria so much that any female attention is welcome, and the more Danni and I get to know each other, the more I can persuade myself to miss Aria less.

After two weeks of bumming at Gran's, I figured I should at least get a job or something so I wasn't being a complete invader to her house, so Danni got me a job at the same place she works – a little wizard coffee house where she waitresses. I got an okay-paying job as a busboy, though I hate the job with a passion. I want to _make something_ of myself, the way Aria and Sean are, but busboy is really all I can handle right now.

"Jaaake!" Danni calls, slamming the front door behind her. She spends every waking moment at my grandmother's house, and while she says it's to see me (which is probably partially true) I suspect there's a bigger reason behind it, though I've never asked.

"Living room," I call back from where I'm sprawled on the over-stuffed sofa in front of the Muggle television that I've become entranced with. Danni finds my fascination with all things Muggle hilarious, since, being a Muggle herself, she takes it all for granted. It's kind of weird – I sometimes forget she's a Muggle because she knows so much about the magical world. Like the fact that she has a job at a _wizarding_ coffee house – I still don't know how she got the job. But everyone there loves her, as she entertains the customers with "wild" Muggle stories that wizards find just hilarious.

The show in front of me is some repulsive cartoon that is certainly not fit for any child to watch. I flip the channel, and very soppy soap opera music plays as some woman admits her undying love for her brother's best friend's cousin's girlfriend's sister's boyfriend's dog's brother's owner's cousin's boyfriend … or something like that. The brother's best friend's cousin's girlfriend's sister's boyfriend's dog's brother's owner's cousin's boyfriend … or whatever is telling her that they can't possibly be together because he is actually madly in love with her sister. I roll my eyes and change the channel again.

"Hey," Danni protests, "I was _watching_ that!" I look over at her and am relieved to see she's kidding. She shoves my feet over and plops down on the sofa. I glare at her playfully and put my feet back up, stretching across her lap. She just smiles at me in a way that makes me pull my feet back to the floor and sit up. She frowns just slightly, but it's instantly replaced with a bright smile.

"Where's Mrs. P?" she asks curiously, looking around as though she's hiding in a dark corner somewhere. I smile at that thought.

"Ran to the store – said she'd be gone for a good three hours. I don't doubt it. That woman could take a year in a supermarket," I grumble good-naturedly, and Danni grins. Her smile isn't as pretty as Aria's. Merlin, I miss Aria.

"You okay?" Danni asks. I look over to find her a full three feet closer to me than she was a second ago. I smile at her uncertainly. Danni fancies me – and isn't afraid of showing me so. She's constantly dropping hints and flirting with me, and even though I've _told_ her I'm not interested in her like that, she doesn't give up. Sometimes she annoys me so much I just want to kiss her and get it over with so she'll leave me alone. Except I don't want to kiss her.

"I'm fine," I sigh, and she leans even closer. The flowery scent of her shampoo wafts toward me, and if I closed my eyes, I could almost convince myself that it's Aria leaning toward me, coming closer, and then – _what the hell?!_

I jerk back from Danni in surprise just as her lips touch mine. She practically falls into my lap in shock, but sits up instantly.

"What's the matter?" she demands.

"You just kissed me," I state angrily. She blinks at me.

"Yeah?"

"Danni… We talked about this," I sigh, and her face instantly adopts a pout.

"Jake, come on! You said you don't have a girlfriend! Why do you keep flirting with me and then telling me you don't want me to flirt with you? It makes absolutely no sense! If you're just going to lead me on then I don't want to do this," she says, and the sadness in her voice sounds real. I sigh.

"I'm sorry, Danni. I really am. I don't mean to lead you on, I really don't."

"So kiss me!" she exclaims.

"No," I murmur, looking down. Her hand worms its way into mine, her fingers interlacing with my own. I look down at our hands and she squeezes mine softly.

"I don't get you," she mutters before releasing my hand and standing up. I suddenly wish she'd sit back down, though I can't explain why.

"Me neither," I agree, and she laughs. Her laughter dies though, and she sighs before sinking back into the couch, not quite as close as before, but still close.

"Jake, I really like you," she says softly, and I look at her and sigh.

"I know."

"And you don't have a girlfriend."

"I know," I sigh again. She frowns at me.

"So what's the problem?" she asks in a slightly whiny tone.

I look at her, and suddenly I don't see the problem. I smile at her, and she grins back. And then, quite suddenly I find myself kissing this girl that I barely know, closing my eyes and trying as hard as I can to convince myself that this is okay. This isn't wrong. I _don't_ have a girlfriend. I'm not doing anything I shouldn't be doing. And above all, I think I'm trying to convince myself that the girl I'm kissing is Aria.

* * *

**A/N**: Dun, dun DUNN! Oh, and I feel need to point this out once again before I get a bunch of angry reviews: Jake doesn't _LOVE_ Danni, so don't worry about it! And Aria IS NOT attracted to Drew! Ha, I just realize their names both start with 'D'…


	11. Growing Friendships

**A/N**: So sorry for the wait! This chapter isn't that great, sorry to say. Another one of those necessary fillers. I won't keep you up here long. Please review!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Growing Friendships**

Jake

"So how was your day?" Gran asks conversationally over supper that night. I avoid Danni's gaze and stuff some more chicken into my mouth, rendering a response impossible.

"Good," Danni answers, drawing my grandmother's attention to the other side of the table. "Work was pretty boring today," she says lightly.

"Good, good," she replies rather distractedly. I wonder what's up with her today. She's been odd all day. I'm about to bring this up when Danni interrupts.

"How was _your_ day, Mrs. P?" she asks with a big smile. Gran smiles back.

"Good. Did a bit of grocery shopping this afternoon, you know…" she says, trailing off. I exchange a worried glance with Danni, who shrugs before going back to her meal.

"And how are things at home?" Grandma asks. Danni stiffens noticeably. I know nothing about her home life, as she's always extremely reluctant to talk about it, and has abruptly changed the subject whenever it comes up. Grandma _must_ be off today to bring it up in front of me – as far as I know, they never discuss it when I'm even in the house.

"The same," Danni says simply before taking a leaf out of my book and stuffing her mouth so full she can't possibly say more. I keep my eyes trained on my plate, and the air turns suddenly awkward.

"So sorry, dear," Grandma murmurs, though whether she's apologizing for bringing up Danni's family or for whatever's happening at her house, I'm not sure. I don't think Danni is either, but she simply murmurs that it's fine, don't worry about it.

The rest of the meal passes uneventfully. By the time the table is cleared, the kitchen curtains drawn, and the dishes set to washing themselves in the sink, Grandma has disappeared down the hall to her bedroom.

"Do you think she's okay?" Danni asks from where she's leaning against the breakfast bar, watching in fascination as the dishes scrub, dry, and put themselves away.

"She's a bit off today," I agree, joining her. She inches closer to me and slips her hand into mine. I let my hand lie there uselessly, not moving to tighten it around hers, but I don't pull away either. Her hands are soft and smooth, and – again – they remind me of Aria. _Is that all I can see in her?_ I think with disgust, suddenly realizing what I'm doing. All I can see in her is how she measures up to Aria? That's not even fair.

Danni's great. For a Muggle. No… no, Danni's great, period. I haven't known her long, but she's smart and funny, and she's pretty, which is always a bonus. She's not Aria, but she's … close. Again. I'm doing it _again_.

"Are you okay?" Danni asks, pulling me back to earth. Her voice isn't like Aria's. It's not as soft or as high-pitched. Not as … melodic I suppose.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I tell her, squeezing her hand slightly before pulling away. "Just thinking."

"About whom?" she asks rather innocently.

"What makes you think it was a who?" I say with a mock-offended look. She grins.

"Just the look you had on your face. Who is she?" she asks curiously.

"Now you think my who is a she?" I ask with raised eyebrows.

"Jake, I'm a _girl_. I _know_ things," she whispers dramatically, to which I have to smile.

"Her name's Aria, and I'm actually trying to forget about her," I explain with a grimace as the truth squeezes through. Then I have to wonder. Do I really want to forget her? No. I just wish her memory wasn't so painful. I hated leaving her like that, making her cry. It's _that_ that I'm trying to forget – not Aria herself. I could never forget Aria. I lo-

"How come?" Danni asks, interrupting my train of thought.

"I don't want to talk about it," I mumble. Danni's expression morphs into one of understanding, which for some odd reason comforts me.

"Bad break-up huh?" she asks comfortingly. My comfort disappears instantly.

"Sure, something like that," I manage. It's too complicated to try to explain all of it to her, so I'll let her believe that.

"Let's talk about something else then," she suggests, opening her hand to me and looking at me curiously, half daring me to take that extended hand of hers and follow her into the living room. I look at the sink to see the dishes have finished. Quickly I wave my wand to drain the sink before smiling at her a bit uncertainly and taking her hand.

As I follow her into the living room, I wonder what I've gotten myself into.

x.x

Danni

I don't think I've ever met someone quite like Jake. First off, he's a wizard, and he's the first wizard I've ever met under the age of thirty. The coffee shop where I work isn't very popular among the "young crowd" as my boss calls it. It's mostly old people and businessmen … erm… business-wizards? Whatever.

Mrs. Parks was the first one to tell me about magic, though she did it extremely reluctantly. She used to babysit me when I was little, and one day – I must have been about six - she accidentally did some magic in front of me, and when I wouldn't stop talking about it, she sat me down and told me all about magic and wizards and witches, swearing me to secrecy.

I instantly took fancy to the idea of being a witch. I was bitterly disappointed when the summer I turned eleven passed without my Hogwarts letter. But I still have Mrs. Parks, who helped me get a job at the coffee shop, even though it's an all-wizarding shop that Muggles aren't supposed to notice. To me, the outside looks like an old boarded-up barber shop, but as soon as I pass through the door it transforms into the cozy coffee house I've grown to have a rather love-hate relationship with, due to the fact that working there reminds me that I'm _not _a witch, and probably never could be.

I love it though, because it's my only real connection to the wizarding world – the only time I ever get to see wizards in "action" (reading, drinking coffee, but hey, it's better than nothing). I've grown so used to Mrs. P being a witch that it always manages to surprise me when I see new people doing magic.

But Jake is _so_ different from the other witches and wizards I see at the coffee shop. First off, he's my age – very nearly anyway. And he's _cute_ – damn is he cute. He's also really … _nice_. He's not like guys at my school, almost all of whom are jerks and egotistical arses. He's … almost normal.

Perhaps my high opinion of him is biased – you know, considering I have a ginormous, elephant-sized crush on him? Yeah, that could do it. Well, who _wouldn't_? The only problem is, I'm not really sure what he's doing here. I mean, one day it's just me and Mrs. P, and the next thing I know, her long-lost grandson appears out of nowhere? It's a little strange.

Also, the fact that he just broke up with this Aria-girl is weird. I mean, I've known him for a little over a month now, and he hasn't _once_ mentioned her … _at all_. Who is she?

I lead Jake into the living room and pull him down onto the couch beside me. I can tell he's a bit uncomfortable with this. Maybe he's still getting over Aria. Well … best way to mend a broken heart is to move on, right? That's what my mum told me once anyway.

"Listen, Danni," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "We really shouldn't-"

I don't wait anymore. I kiss him. He doesn't kiss me back at first, but I don't pull away. Eventually his hands circle around me like they're supposed to, and he relaxes. He's a good kisser.

Finally he pulls away, breathing heavily. I smile at him, and he sighs. Oh boy, here we go again.

"Danni, we really ... we really shouldn't…" he trails off and shakes his head. He's silent for awhile as though thinking, and then he heaves a sigh. "What the hell," he mutters to himself before kissing me. I smile against his lips. That's right, Jake. Forget ol' whats-her-name Aria. You have me now. You don't need _her_.

He must be thinking the same thing, because the next second his kissing is even more passionate, almost needy. Still amazing though. I don't deny his desire for my kisses. We kiss heatedly like this until we hear footsteps coming down the hall. He jerks away, his face flooding with guilt and shame. I glance over my shoulder just as Mrs. Parks comes into the room. Upon seeing us, an amused look overcomes her features.

"Did I interrupt something?" she asks, obviously extremely amused.

"No," Jake mutters, not looking at her. I glower at her good-naturedly so she'll get it that _yes_ she _was_ interrupting something, but I won't stay mad at her.

"Good," she says rather sternly, more to me than to Jake. "Danni, it's getting late. You should get on home," she says a bit coolly. My heart sinks.

"I can't stay here?" I ask softly. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jake look at me sharply before quickly glancing away again. Mrs. Parks' expression softens slightly.

"I am sorry, dear," she says quietly. "But I don't think that's best."

I nod at her curtly. She offers me a kind smile before addressing her grandson. I feel a pit of jealousy erupt in my stomach when she smiles all the more lovingly at him. I've had her to myself for _years_ and now suddenly _he_ shows up claiming to be her grandson and she drops everything for him! She doesn't even _know_ him! It isn't fair.

"Jake, dear, you should be getting to bed as well," she says softly. Jake nods agreeably and offers her a smile.

"Goodnight," he says in a sweet way that makes me want to puke. Mrs. Parks smiles back warmly.

"Goodnight, dear."

With that she turns on her heel and marches back up the hall to her bedroom. I hear the door close with a snap. I've known her for years, but she still confuses me with her strange moods.

"I should get going," I say softly, standing up. I'm surprised to find my hand in Jake's, unable to leave.

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble," he says quietly before standing up as well. I grin up at him, and he seems to relax a little bit.

"Ah, it's not big deal," I assure him. "I'm used to it. She thinks she really is my grandmother sometimes and goes a bit overboard with the discipline," I say with a wink. He grins back down at me and leads me to the front door.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks rather uncertainly. From his tone I can't tell if he's looking forward to it or not. But he smiles at me and kisses my forehead gently, which makes me thing he probably _is_ looking forward to tomorrow, if not quite as much as I am.

"Definitely," I reply, leaning up on tip-toe to plant a kiss on his cheek. He stiffens a bit as I pull away, but I don't comment on it. He'll get over whoever this Aria person of his is in his own time. I'm just here to speed up the process a little bit.

"You should go," he murmurs, pulling open the door for me. I smile at him and step outside.

"Goodnight, Jake."

"Night, Danni. Take care."

And then he shuts the door in my face.

x.x

Jake

I stand there leaning against the front door, my head spinning, wondering what on _earth_ I've just done. I spent the evening kissing a girl who is _not_ Aria. A girl I've known for barely a month, whose past I know nothing of. What am I doing? If Aria ever found out about this…

And then I have to wonder … why am I so worried about what Aria would think? She doesn't control my life, does she?

_What is WRONG with you? Are you TRYING to ruin your chances with her?!_

What? Of course I'm not! I … I love her … don't I?

_Of COURSE you love her you idiot! What are you doing messing that Danni girl around? You stick with her and you can kiss your chances with Aria goodbye. Literally._

But I like Danni… She's a nice person. She's smart and funny. She's not that different from Aria really…

_You'd rather have a knock-off than the real thing?_

Why am I arguing with myself? Shaking my head at that realization, I sigh and walk around the downstairs, turning out the lights before heading upstairs to my bedroom.

The room I've been given at my gran's was most certainly once my mother's, though it's not very obvious. The colors in the room are gold and burgundy and dark blue – nothing girly like pink or lavender, but that's to be expected. My mum isn't really the girly type, at least not as far as I can tell.

The bed is comfortable, that's all I need to know. There are no pictures on the walls – which disconcerted me at first, but over the last few weeks I've gotten used to the lack of photographs around the house. I think it's probably because most of them would be wizard photographs, and since Mrs. Parks has looked after Danni since she was just a little girl, most of the pictures have probably been taken down for her benefit. No need to expose her to the _entire_ wizarding world, though she already knows a hundred times more than the average Muggle.

I lay in the darkness staring up at the ceiling, wishing I knew what to do about my Danni/Aria problem. Of course, the most obvious solution would be to hang around with Danni until I finally decide to leave to renew my search for my dad, and then once I go _home_, get with Aria, but that seems like a jerk thing to do.

With a sigh, I roll over and close my eyes. Maybe the answer will come to me in my sleep.

x.x

Aria

Lunch with Kay and Drew has become a routine, and not just every other Friday. Somehow – and I have no idea _how_ – Eva has managed to nab me for all of my temping hours, so I now spend all of my time not in class in the Wilifrom Ward. And now I don't have every other Friday off – apparently that was a luxury with an expiration date.

It didn't take long for Drew and me to start taking lunch together on the Fridays I worked, and only a week after that we invited Kay to join us. She gladly obliged, and it soon became a regular occurrence. And then, when I started working my regular hours for Eva, we started eating together on Mondays and Wednesdays as well. Now, we even eat together on the days I have classes, though it's sometimes tricky to time our schedules just right, as class schedules aren't the same as trainee-hours schedules.

"So, what are you up to this weekend, Aria?" Kay asks now as we sit in our favorite booth in the diner across the street from St. Mungo's that we discovered a few weeks back.

"Oh, nothing much. I think Eva's daughter is probably going to come visit "me" again," I say with a wink. They both laugh. I've told them how Maddie comes to visit under the pretext of seeing me, but really spends her entire visits chasing Henry around, who in turn does his very best to hide from the poor girl, seeing as he finds her the most annoying creature to walk the earth.

"Yeah? Well … I was thinking about going to a Quidditch game this weekend. I was wondering if you two wanted to come along," Kay says uncertainly. Drew grins.

"Definitely! Who's playing?"

"Ireland vs. France, right?" I ask curiously. Sean won't be playing – he's still in training – but I'm still up for a good game.

"Yeah. Will your brother be playing?" Kay asks. I grin at that. She's been dropping hints about Sean for weeks now. I think she wants me to introduce them – but I _could_ be wrong. Ha, ha.

"No, but he'll be there, I'm sure. We could go if you want. You could meet him. He owes me some box seats, I believe," I say, which is perfectly true. Sean promised me some tickets to a game the last time I saw him.

"Oh, I already have tickets. They're not box seats, but they're pretty good. I was going to go with my parents, but they cancelled on me last-minute, so I was wondering if you two wanted to come," Kay explains.

"Sounds great," I say enthusiastically. "Game's Saturday, right?"

"Yeah. You want to meet somewhere around two? The game starts at two thirty," says Kay.

"Sure. We could meet at the Ireland stadium's south entrance," I suggest. The other two agree. It's a date … erm … deal.**

* * *

A/N**: I am so sorry for the delay, again! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I wish it was better for you, but I know where the story starts, and I know where I want the story to go, I just can't figure out how to _get_ there. It's painful. Please review!


	12. One Sided Love

**A/N**: I am once again _so_ entirely sorry for the wait. Writer's block combined with homework and headaches make for very slow updates. I've also realized, while reading back through the last chapters of this story in hopes of finding inspiration, that on the back of the photograph of Jake's grandmother, it said that it was her new house as of the year before, but that she'd been taking care of Danni since Danni was just a kid. My explanation is that Mrs. Parks actually bought her "new" house soon after Jake was left with the Weasleys, but for reasons explained later in the story, she wasn't speaking to her daughter then, and she didn't try to contact her until the year before this story takes place. There. That should work.

Okay! So we're FINALLY making major plot development! Yay! That's all I can say now. Forgive me for this super long author's note.

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**Chapter Twelve: One-Sided Love**

Jake

Danni is back the next day, just as she promised. Her cheery voice echoes through the front of the house just as I'm sitting down for breakfast in the kitchen. Gran looks up with a mild look of surprise before going back to her paper just as Danni comes – practically skipping – into the room.

"Good morning," she sings with a huge grin on her face. I watch her warily – what's up with her? I can't remember the last time I saw her so happy. She plops down beside me and casts me a smile. I stare at her in confusion, suspicious of her happy demeanor.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her face falling at my expression. I try to compose myself.

"Why are you so happy?" I ask, not quite able to manage the curiously amused tone I'd been going for. She frowns at me.

"I can't be happy?" she asks, obviously a bit hurt by my wariness. I backpedal quickly.

"Sure, I was just wondering what put you in such a good mood," I compensate. She looks satisfied with my answer for now, and the bright smile returns to her face.

"Nothing much. Just a nice day outside," she says, which instantly makes me suspicious again. She wouldn't have gotten all defensive a minute ago if that's all it was. I just stare at her for a few seconds before shrugging and returning to my breakfast.

Danni helps herself to the cereal sitting on the table, eating silently, but giving off this weird aura of utter happiness that simply baffles me. What is _with_ her today? She's not usually like this. I mean, sure, she's not depressed or anything, but she's _normal_ most of the time. Not deliriously happy to the point of scaring me.

"So how are you, this morning, Mrs. P?" Danni asks my grandmother after swallowing a huge mouthful of cereal.

"Fine, dear," she answers softly. After a few moments of silence she sets down the section of paper she was reading and stands. I watch her curiously as she takes her dishes to the sink.

"I've decided I'm going to spend the day shopping in the city," she announces. I look at her in surprise, and Danni looks simply dumbfounded. My grandmother – while a wonderful woman – rarely goes shopping unless it's at the grocery store or for something she _needs_ like shampoo or something.

"Like … for _clothes?_" Danni asks warily. Gran nods with a smile.

"I was actually wondering if you wanted to go with me, Danni. School starts up again in a few weeks, and you'd want some new school clothes wouldn't you?"

My stomach clenches as she says that. Since I've started hanging out with Danni, I keep forgetting that she's actually still in school, that she's not even seventeen yet … or at least she won't be for another two weeks or so.

"Oh, um … No offense, Mrs. Parks, but, I, ah… I don't really _need_ any new clothes," Danni says uncomfortably. My grandmother adopts a look of understanding.

"My treat," she says with a kind smile. I see irritation flit across Danni's face, but it's gone very quickly.

"That's not what I meant. I just … I don't actually really enjoy shopping," she says with a shrug. "I'm sorry."

My grandmother suddenly looks torn, as though she'd been completely counting on Danni wanting to go with her for some odd reason. But then she smiles.

"Oh, well. I can go by myself. No, it's fine," Gran says when Danni suddenly looks guilty. "I'm not upset with you, dear. If you honestly don't want to go, it's fine. I'm not trying to send you on a guilt trip."

"Doing a pretty good job anyway," I mutter under my breath. This breaks the tension. Danni grins, Gran laughs.

"Alright, alright. I'm going to get out of here then. You two have a good day."

Ten minutes later the house is empty, and Danni is looking as though she can't believe her good luck.

"Did you really mean that about not liking shopping, or did you just say that to get out of going with her?" I ask her softly after awhile. Danni looks as though I've slapped her.

"Jake, how can you think that? I love your grandmother, and if I honestly liked shopping, I would have gone with her. I was about to cave and go anyway just to make her happy, but she said no, so I didn't argue about it."

"Okay," I say simply. She eyes me suspiciously.

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"That was easy," she says, more to herself than anything. I grin at her, and she smiles back.

"So," I say, standing up and taking her empty bowl and mine to the sink. "What do you want to do today?"

I turn around and jump back in surprise when I see her standing _right there_. She laughs slightly. "Don't _do_ that," I tell her with a smile. She just grins and takes another step toward me.

"We have the whole day to ourselves," she says softly, lacing her hands in mine and smiling up at me. I look down at her, suddenly battling with myself.

_What are you DOING?!_

She's right there, smiling at me, leaning up toward me…

_You idiot!! What are you trying to do? Do you WANT Aria to hate you?! Oh my god, what the hell?!_

She bites her lip and smiles shyly, her bright eyes shining at me. What am I waiting for? I've spent years dancing around Aria, and I still have absolutely no idea if she even thinks of me as more than a friend. And here's Danni, who makes no secret about how she feels toward me in the least. For all I know, Aria doesn't even feel that way about me.

_Don't do it._

I smile back at her and lean forward.

x.x

Danni

Jake's kissing is hesitant, uncertain. I release his fingers and wrap my arms around his neck, running a hand up the back of his head, through his soft hair. His hands find their way to my waist.

"You're pretty good at this," I whisper. He smiles slightly and pulls me closer.

"You're not half bad yourself," he murmurs back. I grin at him and pull his head back down. His kisses are a little more confident this time, deeper, more passionate. I take advantage of that and press myself closer to him. His arms encircle me, and one hand slides up my back, resting on my neck for a few seconds before running through my hair.

"Let's go into the other room," I say, pulling back slightly and slipping my hand through his again. He follows me through the kitchen and dining room, back into the living room, where he sits on the couch. I seat myself in his lap. A slightly uncomfortable look flits across his face, but before he can say anything, I press my lips against his again, and his arms once more snake around my waist.

His tongue runs along my bottom lip, which surprises me, but I don't show it. I simply smile against his lips and part mine a bit. The kiss becomes more intimate. His arms tighten, pulling me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck, and his hands run up and down my sides, a smile playing across his lips as he kisses me.

x.x

Jake

Danni's hands in my hair, on my neck, running down my chest – this is all very distracting from the fact that the girl I'm kissing is _not_ Aria. Her fingers play with the hair on the back of my neck now, tugging and twisting at the curly strands at the base of my hairline for just a few seconds before sliding down my chest again.

"Jake," she sighs, her fingers pressing against my stomach, then my arms, then my chest again. I kiss her again to keep her from talking. When she talks it reminds me _again_ that she's not Aria. I try to lose myself in her kisses, her soft hands. It's not very difficult – she's an extremely good kisser.

Suddenly her kisses become even more heated. She slides her arms around my neck again and hugs me to her tightly, showering my entire face with passionate kisses. I have to laugh just a bit at her enthusiasm, but she doesn't seem to take offense at it. I feel her smile against my lips again as she recaptures my mouth.

Her hands tangle in my hair again, clutching at me. I smile again, and she grins back, but she doesn't stop. Then she's tracing her fingers across my shoulders, down my arms, coming to a rest at my elbows, which are then clasped in her hands. Her grip tightens and she leans into me even more. Her dark hair swings over her shoulder, brushing across my face. It smells like cucumbers, so unlike the scent I'm used to with Aria, but that doesn't seem to bother me. It smells beautiful.

_She's beautiful_. I realize this with a slight jolt. I pull back out of our kiss, and she looks at me in a confused and disgruntled way. I just stare at her face for a few seconds, unable to quite cope with this odd realization, though a part of me realizes how silly it is. How could I not have noticed before? I know exactly how – I was too busy comparing her to Aria. But Danni … she _is_ beautiful. Not in the same way that Aria's beautiful, but in her _own_ way. I smile at her, and she smiles back.

"Have I ever told you that you're beautiful?" I ask softly. She looks pleasantly surprised as she shakes her head. "Well you are," I murmur, pulling her forward gently. She meets my lips with another smile.

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" she whispers. I grin and kiss her again, which she joins in eagerly. Her hands on my arms tighten for a few seconds before running back up to my shoulders and then down my chest again, stopping at my waist. It takes me a few seconds to figure out what she's doing, but when I do I break our kiss and grab her wrists. She stops instantly, looking at me with a look of defensive confusion.

"No," I say firmly.

"Jake," she sighs, sitting back. She doesn't pout, doesn't whine. She just looks at me with a sad, knowing look in her eye. I look back in confusion as to her expression.

"Do you love her?" she whispers, her beautiful, unnaturally light brown eyes never leaving mine.

"Yes," I murmur. She looks down, her shoulders slumping just slightly.

"Does she love you back?"

Her question takes me by surprise. She glances back up at me, and her eyes register understanding when she sees my face.

"I don't know," I whisper, looking away. Her hand on my face brings my gaze back to her.

"_I_ love you," she says softly, her eyes burning. I just stare at her. She doesn't seem to be expecting me to say it back, which is just as well. She simply looks at me with her intense eyes, waiting. For what?

She leans forward and presses her lips against mine gently, briefly, before pulling back again. I pull her back to me, and she smiles.

"I really do love you," she murmurs before kissing me with renewed passion. I find myself lost in her kiss, feeling strange and heady. I hold her against me, and when she starts to seem like she's about to pull away, I deepen our kiss, and she comes back, a small smile shaping her lips against mine. Her hands resume their previous task, and while discomfort flickers through my consciousness, her body suddenly pressed even closer to mine distracts me.

Danni's hands slide up under my shirt, her hands warm and soft against my skin. She tugs upward on the bottom of the t-shirt, and, caught up in the heat of the moment, I raise my arms and help her rip it off of me. Her lips grab mine again for a few seconds before pulling away again. I make in involuntary noise of discontent, and she laughs softly. I open my eyes to find her dragging her own shirt over her head. Before I can quite register this, or exactly what it means, she's kissing me again.

Her bare skin is just as soft as her hands are, and I run my hand over her lower back, inching upward. Suddenly the softness is obstructed by something lacey-feeling. As I realize what it is, my stomach lurches, and I pull away again. This time she doesn't hide her annoyance at being interrupted as she sits back again.

"Danni," I start, but she interrupts me with a finger to my lips. I stare at her.

"Jake, you really confuse me, have I ever mentioned that? One minute you're kissing me and everything is fine, and the next you act like … _this,_" she says, waving a hand at me.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely. She leans forward again, but I stop her.

"Now what?" she asks impatiently. I almost laugh at her petulance.

"Just let me think for a minute, okay?" I ask. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"Think about what? How I don't measure up to perfect Aria?" she asks, looking hurt. I feel my eyes widen, my mouth drop open, and her hurt look deepens.

"You really do that?" she asks.

"Not … intentionally," I murmur, feeling dismayed at the expression her face. "No, no, I don't, Danni. I mean, I used to, but I don't anymore, honest," I say quickly, rubbing her arms. She takes a deep breath and nods.

"That was before I knew you, _really_ knew you," I continue softly. I see her calming, and she takes notice of my hands at last. She smiles slightly and takes one of my hands in both of hers. I watch her face as she plays with my fingers, a small smile on her face.

"Jake, I meant it before," she says, her eyes down. "I love you."

"Okay," is all I can really manage. The corners of her mouth pull down into a tiny frown for a split second before she looks back up at me, a curious expression on her face.

"But you don't love me." It isn't a question, but I feel terrible about what my answer would be.

"Sorry," I murmur. She gives me a small smile again before placing my hand on her waist again.

"I don't mind," she says, leaning against me again. Her arms snake around my neck, her ... chest pressing against mine. She kisses me softly, one hand on my cheek, the other in my hair again. I slide my hands up her back again, this time running my fingers against the small band halfway up. She smiles as I hook a finger under it, and then – completely accidentally – it unhooks and falls away.

Danni's kissing is suddenly more intense than it has been this entire time. She's kissing me greedily, almost needy in her passion. I allow myself to get lost in her emotions, to let her sweep me away with her intensity. I find myself laying her back against the couch, carefully resting my weight on my arms, still kissing her as though my life depends on it.

I'm not completely aware of what's happening, but soon I find that the jeans she's wearing are gone, and mine are sliding down. I try to raise my head, but she still has one arm wrapped tightly around my neck.

"Jake," she whispers, one hand tugging at my waistband, "Jake, I really love you."

"Are you sure?" I ask softly, resting my forehead against hers for a few seconds, not completely sure what I'm asking of her. She simply smiles and kisses me again.

"I'll take that as a yes," I murmur. She grins and deepens the kiss.

* * *

**A/N**: That was torture! I know you'll all _hate_ me because of this chapter, but it's absolutely essential to the plot. And this is the last really hard chapter for me, so now I can probably start getting updates out sooner. Yay, right? I know, you all hate Danni, she should die, etc., etc. Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it, okay? Just remember my previous warnings. This chapter really was absolute torture for me to write. Don't expect too many chapters similar in the future, because I've discovered I really dislike writing them.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter despite the fact that it was all about Danni and Jake's little escapade. Please review! I'll try to get a new update out soon, promise. Thanks for reading!


	13. Reflections of the Past

**A/N**: Ok, are you ready for chapter thirteen? Lucky number thirteen (no sarcasm there I really mean it – this is probably my best chapter like _ever_). We finally get to learn more about Jake's past.

Not quite to the point where we (okay, _you_) discover _why_ he was brought the Weasleys (besides what the ever-lovely Annabelle Parks has said – that time I _was_ using sarcasm), but you get to learn a little bit about why he stayed there and how Ron felt about it.

It's extremely long compared to most chapters I've written lately, but I think it does a very good job of explaining things. And half of me subconsciously wanted to prove that I'm better at writing emotional scenes than I am at hot and heavy make-out crap. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Reflections of the Past**

Jake

It takes me all of ten seconds to realize, as the front door is closing, signaling Danni's departure, that I'm lying on the sofa in my grandmother's living room stark naked, and I have no idea when said grandmother is returning home. I get up quickly and pull my clothes back on, mulling over my strange and eventful morning as I do so.

I know what I just did with Danni was wrong. For one thing, she's not even seventeen yet – okay, _okay_, _yes_ her birthday is only a couple weeks away but still. And of course there's Aria … oh, Merlin, _Aria._ Feeling as though I've been kicked in the stomach, I sink back down into the couch. But the couch is too warm, still radiating the heat of mine and Danni's bodies… Pushing that thought from my mind I stand up again, starting to pace.

_What have I done?_

I stalk across the small living room, and as I do so, I discover it's exactly twelve and a half steps from one end to the other. I need to get out of this room, this place where I just committed the one act that could possibly permanently alienate me from the only girl I've ever loved…

"Ugh!"

With that lovely exclamation, I yank open the front door with the intent of taking a nice long walk, only to be hit in the face by a gigantic wave of heat that instantly takes my breath away with its ferocity. Is it _supposed_ to be this hot in early August? Shaking my head, I shut the door again. The hot air dissipates quickly, leaving nothing but the cool darkness that the inside of the house normally provides.

I have to do something. Sitting, pacing, thinking – they're not good for me. I need something to distract my mind. What I want is to go see Aria, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now. For one thing, she'd probably want news on my temporarily abandoned search for my father, and how would I explain to her that I've spent the last month bumming at my previously non-existent grandmother's house, hanging out with a sixteen-year-old girl who's now completely in love with me, and today we got so carried away that we-

I groan again, slumping down on the stairs and burying my face in my hands. I seriously need to get out of this house. But where? It's so hot outside. I don't even want to think about going out there. I resume pacing when I can think of nothing better to do, wondering what Aria's up to today. I picture her beautiful face, almost always happy, her blue eyes sparkling when she grins. I'm going to drive myself nuts with this.

So instead I think about Sean, wondering how his training's going, wondering if he has a game today. I guess it's possible, but since I've been staying here I haven't been keeping up with scores and the likes, so I have no idea who's playing anymore. The Chudley Cannons could have won the World Cup and I wouldn't know it.

Yeah, like that'll ever happen.

Thinking of Sean starts me on thinking about Abby and Henry, and I wonder how they're doing. Abby has to be getting ready to go back to Hogwarts, and poor Henry's probably all depressed about that thought. And Abby's birthday is just a month away. Which naturally brings me right back to Aria, whose birthday is about two weeks before Abby's - only two days after Danni's. I sigh loudly. What on earth am I going to do with myself all day? I can't watch the Muggle television because there's no place to sit other than the sofa, and I can't even look at the thing now. And there's nothing else to _do!_

So I think of the house I spent the last thirteen years of my life living in. I picture the cozy kitchen where countless dinners have taken place, thirteen of my own birthday parties passing by. I think of the living room, remembering rainy summer days spent there with my two very best friends, and I smile sadly at those memories. For a few seconds I let myself wonder if I should just go home. Go back to Aria. But no. I miss her like part of my own self was left behind there – and I suppose that's almost true – but my desire to find my father suddenly intensifies, and I know if I go back now I'll never be able to leave after seeing her, talking to her, hearing her voice…

I sigh again, feeling frustrated. I need to _do_ something! With a groan I spin around to pace back across the tiny living room. Suddenly I'm surrounded by pressure, feeling as though my eyeballs are being shoved back into my head. With a slight feeling of panic, I realize I'm in the middle of Apparition, and I'm not exactly sure where I'm ending up.

When the pressure lifts, I stare about me in wonder. I'm standing in the middle of the backyard of the Weasleys' large house. I stare at the back door in shock. Did I seriously just…? Merlin!

I walk to the door slowly, trance-like, not exactly sure I want to be here. The curtains are drawn across the sliding glass door, no doubt in an attempt to keep as much cool air inside as possible, and I hesitate as I reach out toward the handle. Something tells me to stop, and I pause with my hand in midair. I take a step to the left and peer carefully through the window instead. My heart aches as I catch sight of her.

Aria is lying across the sofa with her feet in the lap of some guy with a huge grin on his face, his blonde hair sticking up all over the place. Her face is turned up toward his, a smile on her face. He says something and she laughs, and my stomach clenches, my heart turning to stone. No... No, this can't be happening. Quickly I stumble backward across the lawn. I don't even notice the heat as I run, my fight-or-flight instincts obviously choosing the 'flight' option.

I run until I can hardly breathe anymore. Finally I just collapse, shocked to find I'm at the edge of the swimming hole where I used to spend entire summer days with Sean and Aria. I stare at the still water, not seeing anything but the image of Aria smiling at that other guy, burned permanently across my vision.

_Well it's nothing more than you deserve really_. Damn it, I thought I'd gotten rid of that annoying little voice in my head. Briefly I wonder if I'm going crazy, but I dismiss that thought almost immediately. I like to look it at as my subconscious – speaking in Sean's voice most of the time – looking after me.

But it – that voice – is right. I _do_ deserve this. I deserve nothing more than for Aria to marry the guy. My heart clenches in pain at that thought. To think of Aria marrying _anyone_… The pain is almost unbearable. I don't _want_ Aria to get married. _Unless she's marrying you, right?_

With a groan I bury my face in my hands again. A twig snaps somewhere behind me and I freeze. There _are_ a variety of potentially dangerous creatures out here… It's stupid to worry about that though. I _am_ an adult – I can do magic now without worrying about the Ministry swooping down on me. I nearly roll my eyes at my own childish fears.

"_Jake?"_

I jerk around in surprise. Ron is standing behind me in complete bewilderment, his wand half-raised. I stand up immediately despite the fact that I'm still tired from running in circles all through the forest.

"Ron," I say with a rather sorry attempt at a smile. He eyes me rather warily.

"What-what're you doing here?" he asks, and I can hear his barely concealed anger. I can't blame him for being mad. I only left his poor daughter after she begged me not to. I wince as that thought reminds me again of what I just saw.

"I was … in the area," I manage, unable to reach his eyes. He makes a noise of disbelief, and I cringe inwardly.

"Does Aria know?" he asks. I shake my head. "Good," he says curtly. "She has enough on her mind." I wonder what _that's _supposed to mean. I don't ask. He stares at me for awhile, glaring at me, and behind his obvious anger is a slow burning, and I have the strangest feeling that if it was left to simmer long enough, it might just turn into something akin to … _hatred_.

"Can you turn on me so quickly?" I whisper sadly, and his expression becomes puzzled. "You've known me for more than thirteen years – you've been like a father to me, and one little decision on my part can make you hate me?" I ask softly, an overwhelming sense of despair overtaking me. His eyes soften, and shame floods his face.

"I'm sorry, Jake. But you have to understand. Aria-"

"That's what it comes down to, isn't it?" I ask with a little sardonic smile. His returning expression is grim. "Isn't it? It all comes down to blood in the end. Doesn't matter that I'm nearly your son as well – forget that you raised me from the age of five – because Aria really _is_ your daughter, isn't she?" I ask, my tone a little bit more bitter than it ought to be. His face is shocked and hurt and angry again.

"Do you know how _hurt _she was when you left?" he snarls. I wince at the thought of hurting Aria and how much more she'd be hurt if she ever found out what I did this morning. The guilt washes over me instantly. I just snapped at Ron without any solid basis for my argument. _Great job, smartass._

"Do you realize that she cried herself to sleep every night for nearly two weeks?" he continues, and the ache in my chest sharpens. "Don't you understand how completely and utterly she needs you?" he whispers, his face distraught. Something slowly clicks into place, becoming clearer and clearer as he continues. He's … is he seriously _jealous_ of my "relationship" with Aria? Or just concerned because of the bond we share? Or … used to share.

"Have you ever seen her face when she talks about you? Seen how her happiness depends almost completely on _you?_ You don't even know how much she cares for you, Jake! She relies on you so much it's as if you _are_ part of her, and when you left her it was like you took that part of her and you ripped it away from her. _Don't you understand that?_" he asks, tears brimming in his eyes, those unbearable blue eyes that I used to see on Aria's face every day. Huh, and here I thought that I'd left some part of _me_ behind when I'd gone. Still, the pain in his eyes eats at me.

I say the only thing I can choke out without falling apart completely in front of the man who had once loved me like a son. "She looked perfectly happy about ten minutes ago with that guy in your living room," I say in a dead tone. He stares at me in disbelief.

"You mean _Drew?_" he cries incredulously. I stare at him, and he rolls his eyes. "Drew _wishes _Aria cared about him half as much as she cares for you – or at least, he would, if he knew about you at all." He says the last part as a thoughtful addition to his explanation, more for himself than for my benefit. My doubt is probably still evident in my expression, because he continues.

"They _work_ together, Jake. And while you were spying on my daughter in our living room, did you happen to notice that the two of them weren't alone?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I just continue to stare at him. "They're just friends. And their friend Kay was with them too if you were too blind to notice. The three of them are going to a Quidditch game this afternoon."

Maybe the relief shows on my face, or maybe I just look too thoughtful to him or something, because the anger comes back almost instantly.

"You'll stay away from her if you know what's good for you," he growls.

"You just told me how much I hurt her by leaving!" I exclaim, more for something to argue about than actually being insulted.

"But she's _healing_. She has friends, she's going out and being a normal kid – well, she's not technically a kid anymore. But she's _moving on_. She's learning to live without you, Jake."

"And that's a good thing?" I murmur, the pain in my chest spreading to an almost unbearable amount.

"Yes, Jacob, it's a _very_ good thing," Ron snarls. "Don't you dare waltz back into her life assuming you can just take up right where you left off with her. You hurt her once – I'm not going to give you the chance to leave her again. I don't know if she can go through that twice. It's only been a little over a month. If you came back, and then left again … I don't know if she could get over it this time," he says, and the tears are back.

"You're in luck," I say softly. "I didn't come here to see her. I didn't even mean to come here at all. I was walking around … and I was thinking of the house, and I turned around, and when I opened my eyes, here I was," I tell him, editing slightly. I don't know why I'm so reluctant to tell him about my grandmother. Maybe because it would give him a reason to empty my bedroom at his own home, effectively telling me I have no reason to return … ever. Or maybe it's because then I would have to tell him about Danni.

He can probably tell I'm holding back, but what should he care? As far as he's concerned I declared my desire to be rid of his family as soon as I walked out the door – figuratively of course, since I actually Apparated out of my bedroom, but the thought is still there.

"Stay away from her, Jake," he warns softly.

"Gladly. She'd hate me right now if I saw her anyway," I mutter darkly. I can see curiosity light up his eyes, but I glare at him, clearly conveying the message that I'm not sharing.

We glare at one another for almost half a minute before he sighs, the hostility giving way to concern.

"How are you, Jake?" he asks, and his question is more than curiosity this time – it's genuine concern for me.

"I'm … extremely messed up right now," I admit, looking down at the ground. His hand is suddenly on my shoulder, and I glance back up at him.

"You want to talk about it?"

I marvel at this abrupt change in attitude, but I'm sure it has more than enough to do with how I finally told him I wasn't planning on trying to see Aria. Still, I feel grateful that this is behind us for now.

"It's … kind of complicated," I sigh, sinking back down onto the ground with my head in my hands. A second later he's crouching beside me, his hand on my back. I feel like a little kid again, sitting in the yard all upset because Sean stole my toy broomstick, Ron comforting me.

"Tell me about it," he says sincerely. I look at him, and he offers me a tentative smile, which I can't return. His look of concern deepens and he lowers himself to the ground at my side.

"D'you want the good news or the bad news first?" I ask with a humorless laugh. He gives me a grim smile.

"Good news, I guess."

"I found my grandmother," I tell him, watching his expression carefully. It goes from interested, to confused to thoughtful to doubt to extreme bafflement in about six seconds, and I have to smile.

"Explain," he says at last.

"That first day … when I left," I start, wincing again, "I went to go see my mum." Shock this time. Shock and … anger? He just nods at me to continue.

"I saw her," I mutter bitterly. "And … I found this," I say, taking my wallet out of my back pocket – trying not to wonder how it hadn't fallen out earlier – and slipping out the picture of Gran. He looks at it carefully, then flips it over and reads the back before looking at the front again, then flicking his eyes to me.

"I can see the resemblance," he murmurs with a smile. I smile slightly and take it back. "So… You found her, and then what?"

"I've been staying with her," I answer quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"And your search…?"

"Erm… Temporarily abandoned, but I don't really plan on staying there much longer." My words shock me. When did I decide this? _Right now, I guess_. But when I think about it, it makes sense. What I did with Danni was wrong. It shouldn't be repeated, and if I hang around much longer, it would probably happen again.

"Really? Is that the bad news?" he asks curiously.

"No, it's my decision based on the bad news," I answer glumly. He looks even more curious now … and slightly worried. I take a deep breath.

"There's … this girl," I start, and his worried look deepens considerably. "My grandmother babysat her when she as little, so she's always around, and so we got to be pretty good friends," I continue. He simply nods silently so I keep going.

"Danni … she's a Muggle," I say, and his eyebrows shoot up curiously, but he remains silent, encouraging me to continue with my story, which I do rather reluctantly. "Anyway… we got to hanging out a lot … and, I don't know how it happened, Ron, but she … _Ron, she says she loves me_," I whisper, and I'm not sure if it's fear or despair in my voice.

To my surprise he chuckles at this, and I snap my head up to see him smiling slightly. At my expression he does his best to wipe it off his face, but he's not very successful. I scowl.

"It's not funny," I snap. His smile slips away slowly when he sees how serious I am.

"What happened, Jake?"

I clench my teeth together and glare blindly at the ground. How can I tell him that? How can I tell him that I just … I just had … I can barely even _think _the word; how the hell am I supposed to actually say it aloud to the father of the girl that I _wish_ I'd done it with instead?! _Did I seriously just think that?_ I guess I did.

"Jake? You can tell me."

I look at him, and suddenly I'm six years old again, seeing the face of the man who became my surrogate father looking at me lovingly, inviting me to share all of my fears and concerns with him, opening his heart to me. The moment is too wonderful and terrible at the same time, and I feel tears jump to my eyes when I realize that when I leave, this moment will probably been stored away in some back corner of his memory, replaced once again by Aria and Sean and Abby and Henry, their concerns, their troubles, their joys always more important than mine, and I feel jealousy jump to my heart with unexplainable ferocity.

"Jake?" His eyes are searching, trying to understand my expression, my tears, which I realize are slipping down my face despite my best efforts to disguise them. I wipe them away, not even able to find proper shame at them. That's how deeply I consider him to be my father, I realize. It doesn't even embarrass me, a nearly full-grown wizard, to let him see me cry.

Why couldn't I have been born his son? Part of me is repulsed by this desire – if that were so, I'd be Aria's _brother_. Or else Aria wouldn't exist… And yet, somehow, at this moment, I'm not sure which of my desires is stronger: to have Aria in my arms right now, to hold her and love her, and spend the rest of my life with her, or to have Ron as my true father, someone who couldn't choose Aria over me because I would be just as much his son as she was his daughter. As he searches my face for answers, I search his for some sort of sign that he _does_ think of me as his son, even a little, but all I see is confusion, curiosity, and concern.

"Ron?" I whisper, and I feel like a child again, tearfully asking Ron questions that most children never find the need to ask, because most children have a daddy and a mummy, and not two people completely unrelated to them who have agreed to raise them.

"What is it, Jake?" he asks kindly, and I have to notice the irony in how his tone is the same as it was when I was six, crying, asking him why _he_ wasn't my dad, why my mum had left me, what was going to happen to me.

I feel the ridiculous question poised on my lips, but I pause, because I know what the answer will be to my foolishness. I _know_ Ron _loves_ me, I think bitterly, but it's not the kind of love I want from him. I want him to love me like his very own son, as if I were a blood relative to him. I know he loves me as _good as_ a son, but I want to _be_ his son, not _as good as_ one. It baffled me when I was younger, when I learned that Sean wasn't his biological son, but Ron still obviously favored him above me. I didn't understand how the two of us could both be in nearly the exact same situation, but Sean was still loved more.

Of course, later, when I understood the whole concept of adoption and learned the whole story of how exactly Ron met Keira to begin with, how the very first day he ever ran into her – literally… I nearly smile at that, letting my mind wander from the story of the timing of Sean's birth, thinking of how the first time I met Aria, it was when she fell on me when we both passed through the Floo Network fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron within seconds of each other. _I guess I literally fell for her the first time I met her,_ I can't help but think.

"Jake?" Ron asks, bringing me back to earth. I glance at him to see him eyeing me worriedly. I try to smile at him to convey that no, I haven't yet gone _completely _mental, but it doesn't come out right, and I can feel the twisted grimace on my face.

"What's wrong, Jake?"

"I was just thinking," I say softly, looking away from him again, "how if I were your son, this never could have happened."

"Oh, Jake." I glance up to see evident sadness in his eyes, looking so truly and unbearably sorry that for just a second I lose focus, seeing _those_ blue eyes in so much pain. "I'm so sorry."

_For what?_ I want to ask. _For _trying_? For being the best father you could be to me when you already had Sean, and then Abby and Henry to look after, not to mention Aria, even if she did come on the scene a little late? For letting me slip to the sidelines because I wasn't your true son and therefore not as high on your priority list?_ I can't ask him those things. I'll always be in his debt for the way he raised me, sharing his love – and Keira's – with me when I wasn't his child, when he didn't have any true responsibility for me, when he only kept me out of the goodness of his heart. I just stare at him, watching him struggle with words now.

"I'm sorry I never treated you the way I should have. I should have showed you that I loved you more, or _tried_ to love you more," he says, and though I know they weren't meant to, his words cut into me. It's one thing to come up with these answers yourself; it's such a huge difference when they're pointed out to you by the person who actually committed the act.

"I'm sorry I let you fade into the background instead of treating you as my own child. I can't imagine what it must have felt like, thinking … that you just … you weren't …" he trails off, but I can imagine what he's trying to say. _You weren't as important to me._ I clench my teeth against the tears, this time turning my head away in shame. I swallow hard and blink quickly, trying to compose myself.

But he doesn't stop – apparently he doesn't realize that he's really not _helping_ with his explanations. "I'm sorry I let you believe all those things, Jake. I'm sorry I never did a thing – never raised a finger to try to get you to see that I did love you," he whispers, his voice choked.

"But not as much as Sean," I whisper back, unable to stop myself before the words are out. He inhales sharply, and I set my jaw, grinding my teeth together now, unblinking, staring hard at a tree a few yards away, refusing to look at him lest he sees the tears in my eyes, the pain that he's causing me even now, when I thought I'd grown used to the fact that I wasn't loved in the same way the others were.

"No," he chokes, and I can't help myself. I turn and stare at him, I see the anguish in his face, which only deepens at whatever expression is frozen on my own.

The next question also pops out of its own accord. "Did I do something wrong?" I whisper, sounding _exactly_ like a six-year-old. His already pained expression only worsens.

"Jake," he says softly, only it's more like a sob. "Of course not. It's _my_ fault," he insists, tears still running down his face. I just stare at him.

"No," I murmur with another little humorless cough of laughter. "It's mine. Because I wasn't born your son, right?"

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry for everything I ever did that showed that I loved you less."

"You think that helps?" I snap, only I'm still whispering too, so it's not as sharp as I meant it to be. "You think you're _helping_ me by telling me this? I already knew all of it, and yet you insist on saying everything aloud, rubbing salt in the wound," I snarl. He shakes his head back and forth, but I can't tell if he's disagreeing or trying to clear his head, or just trying to convey how sorry he is.

"All I ever wanted," I insist, still whispering furiously, "All I _ever_ wanted from you was to be your son the way Sean and Henry are your sons. All I _ever_ wanted was to be looked on with the same love you have for Aria and Abby. That's all I ever wanted," I say, my voice breaking as the tears finally come.

"I wish I could have given you that," he whispers back.

"But I'm not your son."

"No."

"Neither is Sean," I point out, though I know the argument is closed. I only point it out to him to show him his rather obvious hypocrisy and the utter irony of the situation. "And you didn't even know Aria _existed_ until she was eleven years old."

"Sean…"

"Oh that's right," I sneer. "You were _there_ when he was born, weren't you? You were the fourth person to ever get to hold him, after the doctor, the nurse, and Keira. You knew him for five whole years before you ever met me. He wasn't your son – not by blood – but you _already_ loved him as if he were, didn't you? So you adopted him." I can't keep the bitterness out of my voice. Thirteen years of pain, anguish, and jealousy are finally bubbling over, and I'm helpless to stop it now.

"I would have adopted you if I could have," he says quietly, so quietly I almost don't believe he actually said it. I stare at him disbelievingly, but I say nothing to contradict him, hoping for some sort of ludicrous explanation at the very least.

"Those first few months you were with us, Jake… those were the best months of my life. You were so … so precious, Jacob. The first few days were the hardest. You didn't know us, obviously, and you were scared. You missed your father so terribly…." He trails off, and I feel another wave of anguish at that. I _missed _him? Hadn't he _left_ me?

No, I try to convince myself that my mother lied to me. I try to convince myself that my father was driven away. But I tune back in instantly when Ron picks up his story again.

"After you got used to us of course, you and Sean … the two of you were inseparable. And after just a few weeks I loved you so completely that I almost believed you _were_ my son," he murmurs. I stare at him. This so completely contradicts everything we've said in the last twenty minutes that I'm speechless.

"_I _wanted to adopt you, Jake. I was completely prepared to take you in as my own son – legally, lovingly. Keira wouldn't … she didn't think it was the best idea, seeing as you still _had_ a mum, but Anna simply couldn't take care of you." I couldn't agree with him more. My mother was – and is to this day – the worst mother to ever walk the earth. I believe that with my entire being. The only thing she ever did right for me was leaving me with people she knew would love me when she decided she wasn't up to it. I guess she could have left me to die or something.

"Against Keira's wishes … I spoke to your mum about it. I honestly didn't think she'd be opposed to it, seeing as she was all too willing to just _leave_ you with us…" He stops again, obviously watching me for signs of hurt at his statement, but _that _at least I came to terms with long ago.

"What did she say?" I ask softly.

"She flew into a rage, actually. She screamed at me for twenty minutes straight about how I was trying to steal her son from her, and how I'd never win if it was brought to court – not that I was _going_ to take it to court; I'd never _force_ you into becoming my son, and certainly not against your mother's wishes. I left that day believing I'd probably never get so much as a smile from her ever again. And I was pretty much correct. I think she still hates me to this day," he says with a half grin that I can't help but return.

"I don't understand," I say at last, thoroughly confused. "Why would she just leave me with you, but the thought of losing legal custody of me terrified her?"

"You're asking the wrong man, s- Jake," he says, looking down. Hurt courses through me again at how he refrained from calling me 'son', and I'm sure it shows on my face because he winces.

"But you … you _wanted_ me to be your son?" I ask, wanting to hear him say again. He smiles gently, nodding.

"Of course I did, Jake. I loved you so much."

_Loved. Past tense. As in… he doesn't feel that way anymore. Why?_

"Then why…?" I trail off, not quite sure what question I want to ask.

"Your mum was back the next day, completely intent on taking you with her and never speaking to us again. I wanted so desperately to argue with her, to make her see how much happier you'd be with _two_ parents who would give you nearly unconditional love, who didn't spend their lives traveling all over the world for their work, but I knew if I did that, she'd take you that much sooner. Keira tried to get her to see reason, but you'd only been with us for a little over a month, and one month of you and Sean having fun together wasn't enough to get her to see that you were _happy_ with us.

"Even _Sean_ tried to talk to her – and I think maybe he softened her up just a bit, telling her how you were his best friend _ever_ and you'd be best friends for the rest of your lives and that you always had lots and lots of fun together… it was pretty adorable," Ron says now, smiling at the memory.

"What changed her mind in the end?" I ask quietly. He offers me a small smile.

"You did. When she told you that she was taking you away, you started sobbing. It was heartbreaking to see you so hurt. I'm not sure if you made her feel guilty or if she was just sick of your crying, but she caved in the end. But she told me that under no circumstances would she allow us to adopt you – or as she put it, steal you away and lie to you your whole life about who you were. As if we would have done that. We've never made it a secret that I'm not Sean's biological father, I don't know why we'd keep it from you that you were adopted." He rolls his eyes at the thought.

I try to comprehend this. I don't understand how Ron could have once loved me so strongly that he was willing to defy Keira's wishes to bring me into his family as a permanent member, yet now he makes no secret of the fact that he places Aria and Sean and Abby and Henry higher on his priority list – much higher – than me. My confusion is obvious I'm sure. He looks at me sadly before continuing.

"After that … I knew I had to distance myself. Because if I continued to let myself love you as I had been, in a few years I wouldn't be able to stop myself from going to the Ministry and demanding you be removed from your mother's custody. She wasn't a competent mother, and I would have had more than enough evidence by the time you were ten to win my case. But I was terrified of the slim chance that I _would_ lose, and then she wouldn't be convinced again to let you stay with us, and then it would be as if I'd lost my own son when she took you away.

"So I refused to think of you as my son. I told myself you'd be happier if we weren't pretending to play house when your real mum dropped by and made it known that _she_ was your real mother, not Keira, and that your father hadn't been mature enough to love the two of you, and that _I_ could never be your father. That first year she came by at least every couple of months, but I was very careful after she tried to take you away to keep myself busy when she came by.

"After the first year she stopped worrying so much, because by then I'd fully given up ever having you as my son. I'd put enough distance between us that I had nearly convinced myself that I didn't _want_ you to be my son and – oh, Jake," he whispers again, obviously responding to the way my expression contorted at his last sentence. I wave at him to keep going. I've never heard this story, and even though I know how it ends, I want the details.

"By the time you turned seven I was so thoroughly desensitized that I could convince myself that you were happy despite the fact that you weren't truly a part of our family."

"And then Abby was born," I remind him, and a brief, truly happy smile passes over his face as he remembers.

"You always wanted to hold her. Sean wanted nothing to do with her," he chuckles, and I smile slightly, remembering too. Then he sighs.

"And when Abby was born, I suddenly had someone else to focus on, so I didn't have to think about what I was doing to you by purposefully cutting you out of our family," he says sorrowfully, refusing to look at me. I feel his words cut into me, and have to clench my jaw against the tears again.

x.x

Ron

I watch Jake's expression twist yet again as I drive the stake further and further into his heart, and I realize with a sick jolt that I'm _still_ doing it. Distancing Jake from my family has become such a habit that I do it unknowingly, with whatever tools I have at hand – this time, it's a metaphorical stake that I'm driving through his chest as I tell him of how I taught myself to _un_love him.

"I had to so completely distance myself from you that I couldn't even think of you as my son. I couldn't even think of _wanting_ to think of you as my son," I tell him, and I've never felt as terrible as I do now, watching the tears spring to his eyes, watching the pain contort his face, watching myself slam against that stake in his heart again and again.

But he has to understand. The last time he asked was when he was six, and then I deemed him much too young to be able to cope with it. But I vowed to myself that very day that the next time he asked, no matter how soon it was – even if he came back the very next day claiming he was older and he wanted to know right then – I would tell him why I had always treated him as I did.

"Why?" he asks at last, his voice laced so thoroughly with pain that it cuts me to the core. I just stare at him, watching tears leak from his eyes, watching his handsome face – a face I've tried so hard not to love because I knew it would cause me more pain than I could possibly bear – completely twisted in anguish.

"I already told you," I whisper as gently as I can, half wishing he was six years old again, and I could take him into my arms and hug him to me and tell him that I _did _love him just as much as I loved Sean at the time – maybe more - and that I had tried unsuccessfully to stop loving him, but I _couldn't_, I could only bury that love for him under things I convinced myself were more important – my son, and later my daughter, my other son, and after that, the daughter I didn't even know I had, whom I loved from the second I knew she was mine.

I had convinced myself that Jake couldn't possibly be my son, not when he was brought into this world by a woman I barely knew and a man I had never met, burying the hypocrisy of that thought, refusing to think of it.

"I couldn't bear to let myself love you that much because it meant that eventually I _would_ try to take you from your mother's legal custody, and then she _would_ take you away from me, and I'd most likely never see you again," I remind him.

"And it would have been as if you'd died, and that would have meant that my very own son had died and I may never have recovered from the pain of losing you, Jake, because just like Aria now, I _needed_ you. You made me so happy. You lit up the room with your smile and you ended any argument with a curious or upset look. I wouldn't have ever been able to let you go, so I did the only thing I could do that I knew would let me keep you."

I can't tell from his tortured expression if he's understanding any of this or not. I can only see his pain, and I want so badly to remove it. It's right then that I realize that I'm finally letting myself love him as I should have from the start – right now he _is _my son and his pain is my pain, and if I could make him happy right now it would bring me unbelievable joy.

Jake sits there brooding, his expression flickering every few seconds as he thinks. I watch him carefully for what I'm sure must be lurking under the surface – anger. Eventually he'll discover it himself. My only question is whether he'll take it out on me or his mother. I can't deny that I deserve his wrath though – I kept from him the love of a family for my own very selfish reasons, and I may have quite possibly scarred him for life, if you'll excuse the cliché.

Finally he looks up at me, his expression calm, his eyes still sad, but not angry. "Thank you," he says softly, taking me completely by surprise. _Thank you?! _For WHAT?! For ruining your life? Well you're welcome then, because I certainly did _that_.

"Thank you for explaining," he clarifies. "Thank you for finally telling me all of this, even if it was hard … for both of us," he murmurs, tearing his gaze from mine.

A feeling of loss overwhelms me when I realize he'll be leaving again soon. I want to beg him to stay, to marry Aria and legally become my son – marry _Abby_ if he has to if only he'd stay and become my son. Being over the age of seventeen I couldn't actually adopt him now – well, I could try, but it probably wouldn't hold up in court, whether wizard or Muggle, since he's eighteen now.

But I realize soon after that what asking him to stay would mean. It would mean that he'd be back with Aria, and this time I'm sure he wouldn't be so stupid as to dance around her cautiously, never sure of her feelings for him. And as happy as Aria would be, eventually he'd want to renew the search for his true father, and then he'd leave her again, and I don't think she'd be able to cope much better than I would have been able to when Jake was five years old if she lost him after she let herself love him so freely and openly.

"I'm not going to ask to stay, because I know what your answer would be, and you're right – eventually I'd have to leave again, and I couldn't bear to do that to Aria again. Thank you, Ron. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for keeping me," he whispers, standing up. I stand up beside him and look at him, realizing then that he's nearly as tall as I am now. I can look him straight in the eye.

"I did more than keep you, Jake," I tell him honestly. "I loved you with all my heart, even when I tried not to. I still do, and quite honestly, someday I hope you _will_ be my son." The realization of what I mean by this dawns almost instantly in his dark eyes, and a small, sad smile creeps across his face.

"Thank you," he says again, and this time I know what he means without any further explanation. Just as I know that one day he'll be back. Maybe a couple of months from now, maybe ten years from now – though for Aria's sake I hope it's not quite that long – but he'll return once he's found his father. My heart clenches when I remember how I once wanted – and still want – to _be_ his father, to be able to call him my son, to hear him call me 'Dad'. I also know that when he does return, he'll still love Aria as completely as he does today, and that when he comes back, he'll ask her to marry him, and then he'll truly be my son.

"You're going to go now?" I ask, and I'm not sure if the hope in my tone is hope for him to stay or hope for him to go. He doesn't seem sure either, but he smiles sadly at me.

"I think that would be best," he murmurs. He stares at me for a long while before finally holding out his hand for me to shake. I look at that hand that once belonged to a very much loved little boy who almost became my son, and I can't bear the formality of it.

I grasp his hand and pull him into a hug, and in that one gesture I try to let him know how much I truly do love him right at that very moment. He pulls back with a sad look in his eyes.

"Please don't tell Aria," he whispers. I nod mutely. "Just know that someday, I _will_ be back, and I'll still love her, and I'm going to ask her to marry me someday," he tells me, and I smile because I already knew that.

"Of course you will," I whisper back, still clasping his hand. He squeezes my hand, smiles at me, and steps away.

"Thank you for loving me," he says before turning on his heel and Disapparating with a _crack_. From his tone, I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

* * *

**A/N**: Whew! Super long chapter!! I got very caught up in the moment. See? I told you all: I'm so much better at mushy, emotional scenes than I am at hot make-out sex scenes. I'm sure you'll all agree after this.

_Nineteen pages_, people! And I don't even have a massive headache the way I did after last chapter's torture. Much better at emotional stuff than at sexual, hormonal stuff.

This chapter actually wasn't even _part_ of the original plans of my story, but I actually had never really thought through Ron's distance from Jake before, so I decided to delve into his past because a few chapters down the road, we delve into Danni's past. Of course, I don't have all the details of her past kinked out just yet, but I'll probably just make it up as I go, like I did with this.

Weird seeing Ron all emotional and such huh? He's very OOC, but I like him this way. I figure it's not _really_ OOC because this is an AU story, so it doesn't really apply. Plus, I look at it as him finally growing up. Yeah, let's go with that.

Ok, I apologize for the insanely long author's note. I'm just still very much into my story right now. Hmm, I wonder if drinking Mountain Dew improves my ability to write, because last time I drank an entire bottle of Dew I produced the hilarious chapter thirty of GFHH… Must conduct a study on that… Haha, just kidding. Haven't got the time to conduct studies on such things.

Thank you so much for reading (and if you actually read my entire author's note, I applaud you). Please review.


	14. Loneliness

**A/N**: Thanks a ton to all of you who reviewed last chapter! So, I realized, as I was going back through some old chapters of Family Ties 1 and 2 that I have Abby turning four a few days _after _Sept. 1st, but that would mean that she would have only turned eleven in this story _after_ Aria, Sean, and Jake left for their seventh year of Hogwarts, meaning she would just be starting her first year at the end of this summer. So I'm going back and editing that. She turned twelve just a few days after starting her first year at Hogwarts, so she'll be turning thirteen in September. Just wanted to clear that up.

Okay, on with the story now!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Lonliness**

Aria

Sunday morning I awake to find glorious blue, cloudless skies outside my window overlooking the backyard. I smile happily at this – a perfect day. I grin out at the sky and pull on a pair of Muggle jeans and a tank top before heading downstairs to see what's for breakfast. As I walk across the big open area leading to the stairs, my eyes happen to move across the closed door of Jake's room. My heart stutters erratically for just a second before taking off double-time.

I pause at the head of the steps, still watching the door as though half expecting the knob to turn and Jake to walk out with his hair sticking up all over the place, his face a half-asleep mask. After an entire minute of nothing, I shake myself. Why would I even think something like that? Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I start downstairs.

Keira is setting two plates of pancakes down on the table for Abby and Henry when I get to the kitchen. She smiles at me as I sit down across from them and hands me a plate as well. I smile back at her in thanks.

"Kay popped into the fire this morning to tell you that she and Drew were coming round about ten. I didn't know they were coming over again today," Keira tells me, sitting down beside me and shooting me a curious look. I smile at her. She loved having them over yesterday morning before the Quidditch game, which we decided would be better than meeting at the stadium.

"Sorry, Keira, guess I forgot to tell you. It's alright that they're coming over, isn't it?" I ask, suddenly worried that she might be upset with me for not talking to her first. But she smiles and waves it away.

"Sure, Aria, that's fine. I love your friends, you know that," she says with a smile. I smile back warmly.

"Dad working?" I ask, glancing toward the hall leading to his study. Keira nods and rolls her eyes at me. I grin back and start in on my breakfast. Keira makes the best pancakes I have ever tasted anywhere. I eat slowly, enjoying every second of fluffy pancake goodness. Across the table, Abby and Henry are discussing whether or not the giant squid at Hogwarts is truly homicidal or not. I hide my grin from them and say nothing, not wanting to disappoint them by letting them know that the squid is really just a big old softie.

Beside me, Keira is absorbed in the _Daily Prophet_ and some story about an old lady who was found to have more than thirty-eight different magical creatures in her house and back yard. She's eating absentmindedly, not really paying attention to what she's putting in her mouth as she reads, half of the time missing her mouth and having to search blindly for a few seconds, leaving bits of syrup around her mouth. I smile to myself and take my plate to the sink.

Keira is the best step-mum I could have ever asked for, sticky face and all. We had a rough time getting along when I first came to live here after my mum died, but after that first summer we came to a mutual respect for each other that eventually led to a very close relationship teetering between friendship and mother-daughter.

Beside all of that, Keira has always been extremely easy to talk to – excluding, of course, that first summer when I hated her because I thought she was trying to replace my mum. The thought of even thinking about talking to my dad about boys can make me embarrassed enough to die, but Keira listens and gives completely neutral points of view, which I love her for. She's great that way. Plus, she's a woman – she knows what I'm talking about much more than Dad has any idea of half the time.

On my way out of the kitchen I glance at the clock on the living room wall – the normal one, not the one with our faces on it in the kitchen, which actually stopped working a few years ago. Nine thirty. I have about half an hour until Kay and Drew show up, giving me plenty of time for a shower and whatever else I feel like doing. I start upstairs feeling renewed excitement.

At the top of the staircase leading to the third floor where my bedroom is, along with Sean's, I can't help but notice Jake's door again. The white wood hasn't changed at all in the last few weeks, and the door hasn't moved a centimeter from its shut position. And yet, I haven't even thought about his room since he left. I hesitate, debating with myself. Finally I walk over to the door and stand there staring at it. Slowly I reach out and touch the knob. It turns easily under my fingers and swings inward.

The room hasn't changed at all since the last time I saw it at the beginning of the summer. The bed is still sloppily made after having the top covers just thrown across it, and there are still balled up bits of parchment and broken quills littering the floor. Crumbled clothing is still spilling out of his unpacked school trunk. An old novel I let him borrow once is lying open face-down on his bedside table with an empty water glass beside it.

Everything looks so … _normal_. Like he hasn't left at all. As though at any moment he'll come walking in the door, giving me a weird look when he sees me in his room. The familiarity of it all cuts me to the core, and suddenly the room is swimming in front of me. I sink onto the bed and put my head in my hands, staring at the bare wooden floor, willing the tears not to fall.

Sitting down on the bed causes a small cloud of dust to rise, tickling my nose and burning my eyes, but that's not what finally causes the tears to fall. His _scent_. The way he always smelled – a mixture between the coconut scent in his shampoo and whatever kind of deodorant he wore – was preserved there in that little cloud of dust, and when it wafts up toward me, I can't stand it anymore.

I hug my legs to my chest and hide my face in my knees. Why did he have to leave? Or why couldn't he have come _back?!_ He could at least _visit!_

A sob escapes and I hug my knees tighter. It isn't fair. Does he have any idea how much I miss him? Does he miss me? Why hasn't he written? And why didn't I make him promise to write? It takes me a few seconds to realize that the horrible ripping sound I've been hearing are more sobs tearing from my chest.

"Jake," I sob softly into my knees. Saying his name after all this time is strange, almost unfamiliar, and it hurts. Thinking it hasn't been a problem. I spend most of my time thinking about _him_. So why does it _hurt_ so much to say his name aloud?

I'm still in that position who knows how much later when I feel someone sit down beside me on the bed. For about half a second I dare to hope. As I raise my head to see who it is, I dare to hope that he came back, that he somehow felt the pain I was in from wherever he was and came back to soothe it.

x.x

Drew

Her half-hopeful face falls as soon as she sees me, and I feel terrible at the disappointment that floods through her expression. She turns away from me and hides her face in her hands, and I can tell I interrupted something I probably wasn't ever meant to see. Hesitantly I reach out and touch her shoulder, and she jumps. I pull back, devastated to hear a sob rip from her throat.

"Aria," I whisper, trying again to lay my hand on her shoulder. Another sob, but she doesn't pull away from my touch. I wrap one arm around her waist and pull her to me, putting my other arm around her shoulders and hugging her. She leans against me and clings to my arm, still sobbing.

"Please don't cry," I murmur, feeling helpless as the sobs wrack her thin body. I hug her close, and an even worse cry wrenches from her.

"What's the matter?" I whisper, brushing hair out of her face as it sticks to her damp cheeks. She shakes her head, her face a mask of pain unlike anything I've ever seen, and I work at a hospital, so I've seen some real pain. Her sobs subside for a few seconds and in the lull I hear one word escape from between her lips. One word that brings another heart-wrenching sob from her chest.

"Jake."

_Who in hell is Jake?_

x.x

Aria

I hate that Drew is seeing me this way. I hate that he has to see me in such a state over another guy – a guy that he could never match up to, which makes me feel even more terrible, because I know how he feels about me. But I can't stop. Because having Drew here, trying to comfort me, is like the ultimate way of rubbing my nose in the fact that Jake _isn't_ here.

It wasn't Jake's worried face I saw when I dared to glance up. It wasn't Jake's soft, low voice asking me what was wrong. The hand that so gently touched my shoulder wasn't the one I was once so used to that I didn't even have to _see_ the face attached to it to know it was him. The arms now encircling me so hesitantly aren't the ones I yearn for. Drew doesn't realize that he's only doing more damage by being here trying to console me.

I clutch at his arm anyway, because he's here, he's something solid and grounded in reality that I can cling to, and I know he won't disappear like a dream when I open my eyes. His arms tighten around me when another sob manages to escape my lips, and I can feel his own suffering at my agony. _I'm sorry, Drew,_ I want to say, but I can't. I can't say anything but _his_ name. I don't know how many times I've said it since he sat down, but every now and then I feel him flinch slightly, so I'm sure it's just popping out of its own accord now.

x.x

Drew

She won't stop saying it. "Jake," she says over and over again, sobbing harder and harder each time she says it. I wish I knew what to do for her. But I've never been in this position before. I don't have any sisters to at least get me used to the idea of emotional hysteria like this. Quite frankly, crying girls terrify me. The only reason I didn't run screaming out of the room as soon as I saw her was because it's _Aria_, and I can't just leave _her_ up here, in such obvious pain, sobbing her heart out.

That's what it is, I realize with a jolt. Her _heart_. Whoever this Jake guy is … well I don't know what he did to her, but clearly it left her heart quite a bit short of whole. I gaze around the room we're in. It's sloppy and dirty, and everything is covered with a film of dust. This can't be Aria's room. It has no feminine touches to it. In fact, it looks more like _my_ bedroom than what I'd imagine Aria's to look like.

This can't be her room. So it has to be … _Jake's?_ Who _is_ Jake, anyway? Her brother – the one I met yesterday – his name is Sean. She has another brother … I saw him around yesterday and just a bit ago downstairs. But his name isn't Jake. Besides, why would Aria be crying over her brother? Unless he died… No. Aria's brothers are both alive and well, and so is her sister. Maybe _Jake_ died… whoever he is.

x.x

Aria

I try to quit my crying, I honestly do. But every time I try to stop, it brings on a whole new wave of sorrow, and I can't help it. I know Drew must be terribly uncomfortable, holding me while I'm crying over another guy. I'm soaking his shirt too. I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to stem my tears, but it doesn't work. Completely of its own accord, a strangled, whimpering sound comes from my throat, and I feel him stiffen and flinch all in the same motion.

A few seconds later I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and I pull away from Drew, trying to compose myself before whoever it is finds us like this. However, when I glance quickly around, I realize where I am, and the loss rolls back over me like a wave, and more tears well up in my eyes.

"Aria?" I hear my father's concerned voice a second before his arms are wrapped around me, and I'm crying into his shoulder. Beside me, I hear Drew stammering quickly, trying to explain.

x.x

Ron

I knew something was up when I heard the doorbell ring – none of our family or friends who usually come to visit ring the doorbell. Most of them don't even knock, they just walk in without any warning. So I was already suspicious when I heard the doorbell ring, and Keira greeting someone with warmth, telling whoever it was to head on upstairs to find Aria.

_Oh yeah, _I remembered suddenly. _Aria has those friends of hers coming over – the ones who took her to the Quidditch game yesterday._

So I went back to my report, not really all that concerned anymore. But when I glanced up at the clock and saw that it had been ten minutes, I began to worry just a little. There really isn't that much to do around here – not upstairs in Aria's room anyway – and I started to get just a little worried. Of course _then_ I remembered that one of her new friends coming over today is a _boy_, so I decided I'd best go check things out.

Keira rolled her eyes at me as I passed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'over-protective', which I pointedly ignored.

My initial reaction upon seeing Aria sitting on Jake's bed with some guy I've only met once, crying, was relief, but that only lasted maybe half a second before I realized that she was _crying_ – sobbing actually – into the guy's arm, and he looked – is still looking - downright terrified.

"Oh, Aria," I murmur now, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tightly. Her arms slide around my neck and she cries into my shoulder, shaking hard with each sob.

"I-I didn't do anything," Drew stammers. "She w-was already l-like this when I-I got up here, and-and I was just t-trying to…" he trails off when I cut my eyes to him.

"I know it's not your fault," I say softly, carefully seating myself on Aria's other side. I'm not sure if it's my words or the little cloud of dust that rises up when I sit that sets off another fresh round of sobbing from my poor, heartbroken daughter. Either way, the sudden increase in volume brings an alarmed look from her friend.

"Shh," I murmur into her hair, gently rubbing her back. "Shh, sweetheart, it's going to be alright." I know I need to get her out of this room – _his_ room. Nothing else could have triggered this. I'd been so sure she was healing. When I spoke to Jake yesterday, I _told_ him that she was healing. She was laughing, smiling, looking forward to the Quidditch game and introducing her new friends to Sean.

Part of me wonders if I should have asked him to come home, or to at least visit now and then, so Aria could see him. And yet, I can't explain the aversion I have to that idea. I glance at Drew to see him looking around the room curiously, probably wondering who's bedroom this is, why Aria's sitting in it, and why on earth she's sobbing so heartbreakingly.

"Sweetheart, let's get up," I say softly in her ear. She simply clings to me and sobs, making no move to do as I suggested.

"Please, you have to get up, love," I whisper, glancing at Drew again. He's still looking around the room, and when his eyes fall on a framed photograph on the wall near the door, he cuts his eyes to me, flushing when he notices me watching him.

"Aria, c'mon, let's get up," I say a little bit more forcefully now, standing myself and pulling her with me. Being quite a bit taller than her, the motion wrenches her arms from around my neck, and she lets out a tortured sound, instantly clutching at my arm for support. I hug her to me, and she buries her face in my chest.

While I wait for her sobs to subside enough that I can talk to her again, I think back to just over six years ago when Hermione died. Aria was so scared and lonely then, too, but this … this is so much more terrible than that. Maybe because this time, there's nothing that can heal her but time, unlike last time, when she had an entire new family to love her and help her heal. She had her two best friends to comfort her and help her along, and this time, who does she have? I know she doesn't feel comfortable talking about it with me, anyway. And Sean is always gone for training and games. She could talk to Keira, but Keira tells me every time I ask that Aria hasn't brought it up.

Maybe she doesn't _want _to talk about it. Maybe the pain and loss runs so deep that the only thing talking about it would do is bring … _this_.

x.x

Drew

Aria's dad knows exactly what's wrong with her – that much has been obvious since he came in here and saw her crying. He didn't even suspect for one millisecond that I could be the cause of her anguish. While he stands there letting her cry into his chest, one step closer to getting her out the door of this room, I walk over to the picture hanging on the wall beside the door.

The picture displays four people, two of which I recognize instantly as Sean and Aria. The other two I've never seen before. One is a girl with really long, nearly waist-length curly white-blonde hair, and she's clutching Aria's arm excitedly, her eyes dancing with happiness. Even as a photograph, her obvious happiness in infectious enough to make me smile just a little.

The Aria in this photograph is happier than I've ever seen the Aria I've come to know in the last few weeks at St. Mungo's. There's almost a _glow_ to how she smiles, the way her eyes are lit up, so much so that the other girl's excitement is almost dim in comparison. I stare at just Aria, lost in her beautiful smile, until a sob ripping from the real Aria standing just a few feet away brings me rudely back to reality.

On the other side of the blonde girl is Aria's brother Sean, his red hair smoothed down in an almost unnatural look after seeing it windswept and messy yesterday. He has his arm slung casually around the blonde girl's shoulders, and he's grinning easily at the camera. So much less intense than at the Quidditch pitch, but still the natural friendliness and easy-going attitude.

The last person in the photo is a tall guy with nearly black hair, his arm wrapped much more intimately around Aria's waist than Sean's arm around the other girl's shoulders. He's smiling down at her, not even looking at the camera, and it's hard to miss the adoration and … _love_ in his gaze. Aria's barely touching the guy, having one arm – the one being clutched by the blonde girl – wrapped around herself, and the other reaching over to grab the blonde girl's wrist.

And yet … the way the tall guy's arm is wrapped around her, the way it looks as though she's pressing herself back against it … it looks so _natural_. As I watch the photo, the beautiful Aria there glances up and grins at him, and for a second I almost expect him to lean down and kiss her – how could he _not_ after looking at her smiling at him like that? But Aria just glances back at the camera for a few seconds before the sequence repeats, the way most photographs do.

Is _that_ Jake? But if it is … then what happened to him that would make Aria … like _this?_ Were they dating? Did he cheat on her? Break up with her? Disappear? Did he _die?_ It's impossible to know without asking, and I can't ask _Aria_ unless I'm prepared for another episode of whatever just happened. I glance toward her, still clinging to her dad, and then back at the photograph, where her smile is so radiant, so beautiful, so unlike anything I've ever seen on her face, even yesterday when she was obviously so pleased to see her brother.

But that's just it, isn't it? She was _pleased_. She's always _pleased_. But is she _happy?_ I can't honestly say. Before today I would have said yes. But looking at this photograph … _that_ is what happy people look like. Aria is just … pleased most of the time. I look again at that guy, wondering what he has that I don't have. He's a lot taller than me, I'll give him that. But other than that … we don't look anything alike, but I wouldn't call either of us _ugly_ or anything. I stare at him, very nearly wishing I could be him if only for a few minutes, just to have Aria turn that gorgeous smile on me.

x.x

Ron

I watch Drew carefully as he scrutinizes that photograph of Aria and her best friends from last summer when Skyla stayed with us. I took that picture of the four of them the day Skyla arrived, all excited for another summer. Then again, I can't honestly remember a summer when Skyla _wasn't_ excited. It was pretty obvious from the start that she had a crush on Sean, and that he didn't start thinking of her as more than a friend until _after_ he told her he just wanted to be friends.

Drew glances back toward Aria every few seconds, obviously comparing the disheveled, heartbroken young woman to the joyful, beautiful and completely-in-love sixteen-year-old girl in that picture. I see him lean in and look at the photo hard for a few seconds, and when I look closer I can see him studying Jake's face there, probably putting the puzzle pieces together slowly.

"Sweetheart," I whisper in Aria's ear, and she stiffens. "Come on," I say quietly, leading her toward the door. She follows me willingly, and I will her not to look over at Drew before leaving the room. Apparently, my prayers are not to be answered. She glances toward her friend, and her eyes fall on the photograph he's been studying for the last five minutes or so.

"Oh," she whispers in surprise, seeing her three best friends surrounding herself, the four of them happier than she's been in over a month. The breath whooshes from her lungs audibly, and quite abruptly, there are more tears in her eyes. I wrap my arm firmly around her waist and force her to walk forward, throwing a look at Drew, not quite able to believe he couldn't see that coming. His guilty expression is answer enough as I lead her out of the bedroom.

She's almost in a trance as I lead her across the landing to her own room. I glance behind me to see Drew shutting Jake's door softly before disappearing downstairs with an apologetic look.

I sit down with Aria on her bed and lean back against her pillows. Almost instantly she's curled into my side, her head on my chest, sobbing again, clutching at my shirt as if her life depends on it.

"Oh, Aria," I sigh, wishing there was something I could do to soothe her pain, but knowing there's only one person left in the world that could, and he's in no position to do so at the moment.

x.x

Drew

I hope Mr. Weasley understands that I had to get out of there. Seeing Aria so desperately distressed is not something I can deal with for very long. Of course I want to comfort her, and I did try, but after just a few seconds it was pretty obvious that _I_ wasn't the one she wanted.

I sigh to myself as I head downstairs. I just wish I knew what the problem was. If he – that Jake guy – _died_, well … I dunno. In a few months or years, maybe she'll be okay. But if it's something else … if he cheated on her or-or left her or something… My fists clench involuntarily at that thought. How could he have left her? How could anyone leave such a wonderful and beautiful person as Aria Granger?

When I reach the kitchen, I'm pleasantly surprised to see Kay sitting at the table, chatting happily with Keira Weasley. They both look up and grin at me when they see me, but Keira's smile slips away instantly at whatever expression she sees on my face, and Kay jumps up, looking worried.

"What's wrong?" Kay asks, hurrying to my side and putting her cool hand on my arm in concern. I look at her and try to smile.

"Is it Aria?" Keira asks, and I can tell by her expression that she already suspects what's wrong. I nod and sink into a chair at the table. Kay is still at my side, looking confused as well as worried now.

"What's wrong with Aria?" she asks, glancing between Keira and me for an answer. Keira sighs.

"Jake?" she asks me with raised eyebrows. I can barely muster up surprise that she can tell so readily what's wrong. I simply nod, and her expression flashes from concern to annoyed to concern again.

"What's going on?" Kay demands, not one used to being left out of the loop. I look at Keira for help, and she sighs again before sitting down across from us.

x.x

Keira

Seeing that look on Drew's face, it doesn't surprise me that Aria is having another little episode. They've been far and in-between so far – the first one was of course when she found out Jake was gone, the next only a week later, but there's only been once since then, and not nearly as extreme as the previous two.

Poor Drew. I suspected, watching him yesterday with Aria, that he might have feelings for Aria. I'm sure it's devastating to him, not just to see Aria so torn up, but to realize how completely in love with Jake she is.

I take a deep breath as I prepare to explain to them. Kay is looking impatient and confused, and poor Drew is looking curious, but behind that, simply shocked and hurt.

"Who's Jake?" Drew asks before I can begin. Kay looks back and forth between us impatiently.

"He's … he was Aria's best friend from the time they were eleven," I start, and already Drew has picked up on the 'was' part, raising his eyebrows. "He also lived here with Ron and me from the age of five," I add, and Kay's confusion deepens, but a light bulb of sorts goes off over Drew's head as he puts pieces together.

"He was like a son to us, and after Aria's mum died and she came to live with us, they became so much closer."

"How old was she when her mum died?" Drew wants to know. It surprises me that he doesn't already know – or maybe he does, but he just needs the reminder.

"Eleven – nearly twelve," I say, and he looks surprised, but doesn't say anything about it. "Anyway … I don't know what else to tell you. All I know is that somewhere along the way, they fell completely and irrevocably in love," I say, and I feel a tad melodramatic at my description, yet it feels so true that I don't correct myself.

I feel awful at the pained expression on Drew's face. He stares at the wood grains of the table for a few seconds before speaking again, this time in a whisper so soft I nearly don't catch his question.

"So what happened?"

"He left," I start, and his head snaps up instantly. From the way his expression took on understanding every time I used the word 'was' I'm sure he was just assuming that Jake had died.

"He wanted to find his biological father, and he refused to take Aria with him because he wanted her to get through Healer training. I know he thinks what he did was for the best…" I trail off and eye Drew hesitantly.

"For the best?" he echoes incredulously. "Have you ever _seen_ her like that?" he asks accusingly, jabbing a finger upwards to indicate upstairs. "_I_ haven't," he adds, pointing back at himself.

"He didn't know how much he was hurting her by leaving," I defend Jake instinctively, still feeling responsible for him, as though he were my own son.

"But I _saw_… I saw that photograph," he whispers, looking down again. I wonder which photo he's talking about. The one of Jake and Aria from Christmas three years ago when they ganged up on Sean and covered him from head to toe in gift wrap? The one of Jake, Sean, and Aria lying in the grass in the back yard that has the boys pinning poor Aria down while they tickle her to death? There are so many pictures that have both Jake and Aria in them, but only one really comes to mind if he could_ see_ the way they felt about each other. But that's in Jake's room.

"Was she _in_ his bedroom?" I ask a bit more harshly than I meant to. He looks surprised at my tone, but nods slowly, and I sigh. Of course. No wonder she's having an episode.

x.x

Ron

Eventually Aria's sobs subside and she simply lies there with her face buried in my chest, her breaths still coming in short, ragged gaps, but slowly deepening and lengthening until I wonder if she's fallen asleep. But she raises her head and looks at me, her eyes red, her face distraught.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, resting her chin on my chest, and I nearly laugh, but that wouldn't be the appropriate reaction.

"Don't be," I assure her, wiping wisps of hair off of her tear-slick face.

"Is Drew alright?" she asks quietly, and for the first time I notice how rough and hoarse her voice is after all that sobbing.

"He's a little freaked out," I admit with a grimace, and she sighs before sitting up and facing me.

"I don't know why I did it," she whispers, looking down, tracing the lines on her bedding with her fingertips. "I just …" she trails off and shrugs, but I think I can guess what she means. She just needed _something_ to prove to herself that he'd once been here, occupied space in this house, had breathed the same air as her. I remember feeling that way when Hermione left, except I'd had nothing of hers left, nothing except photographs, which became too painful to look at.

"I understand," I whisper, and her eyes search mine, needing assurance.

"I should go downstairs and apologize," she murmurs, looking ashamed of her behavior. I reach out and squeeze her hand gently.

"Don't be embarrassed," I whisper. Her face flushes anyway, so I refrain from saying anything else similar. Instead I take both of her hands in mine, and she looks back up at me expectantly.

"I love you, Aria," I murmur, and a sliver of a smile passes over her face. "I know it's hard. I know you're in pain. I know you miss him, and I know you feel as if …" I pause, trying to phrase this right so I don't upset her, but she smiles sadly and finishes for me.

"As though no one in the entire world could ever measure up or make me happy again," she whispers, and my heart breaks at the sadness in her tone, in her expression, in her posture. I squeeze her hands again.

"I've been there," I say quietly.

"But you found Keira," she finishes for me again, and I nod. She looks up at me, searching my face again for answers. "But what if _I _don't?" she asks, her expression crumpling again. "What if I _don't_ find someone else, Dad?"

"Oh, sweetheart," I whisper, hugging her. She doesn't cry this time, simply clutches my arms and shakes against me with dry, silent sobs.

"Why'd he go, Dad? Why did he have to leave?"

"You know why," I murmur into her hair, and she shakes her head back and forth.

"He could have come back. He could have visited. He could at least _write_ a damn letter now and then!" she exclaims angrily, pulling back from me abruptly. Briefly, a nearly-forgotten memory of Hermione lecturing me on the stages of grief right after the war ended enters my mind and I very nearly smile, but at the last second gain control of my facial muscles so my poor daughter won't think I'm laughing at her.

"Maybe it's better this way," I murmur, so softly that I half hope she won't hear me. Her incredulous expression tells me otherwise.

"_Better?!_ You think this is _better?!"_ she spits, jumping up.

"Sweetheart, sit down," I murmur. She glares wildly at me for a few seconds before marching over to her armchair and throwing herself into it.

"Go ahead then," she snarls, and her resemblance to her mother right then is frightening. "Go ahead and tell me why this is _better,"_ she says the last word with a sneer curling her lips, and I sigh very quietly.

"Tell me something, Aria. If he came back and visited maybe once a month – _one_ day every four weeks – would you feel better or worse after each visit, _knowing_ you won't see him again for thirty solid days?" I ask her, truly curious of her answer. She scoffs at me and spits out her answer instantly.

"Better, of course," she says indignantly. I stare at her for a few seconds and she becomes quiet, thinking over her answer, and eventually her face falls.

"Probably not," she murmurs, staring at the floor. "I'd miss him even more. So, so much more." She looks back up at me, and her eyes are suddenly burning with intensity. "But when he was _here_. The one day we had together … it would keep me going through the other twenty-nine days – give or take – he was gone … would-wouldn't it?" she asks, her voice breaking, her eyes glassy with tears again.

"I don't know, love," I murmur. "I never _got _thatparticular privilege."

"I don't care," she whispers fiercely, abruptly angry again. "I don't care if he's gone twenty-nine out of thirty days. That _one_ day would make up for all the others," she insists, her voice choked with tears that she refuses to let fall from her beautiful blue eyes.

I feel suddenly terrible for my long talk with Jake yesterday. We were right _there_, barely a ten minute's walk from the house where Aria sat with her new friends, and I could have let him see her, could have let them talk, let them be happy together, if even for a few hours. It was my own stupid selfishness, my own _jealousy_ that someone could make her happier than I could. I could have brought him back to the house, and I would have made Aria's day.

_He didn't want to though,_ I remember suddenly, with striking clarity. He didn't _want_ to come see her, because somehow he _knew_ what that would do to her. I try to imagine what today would be like if Jake _had_ been here to see her yesterday, and had gone again this morning or late last night. She'd be even worse off. Her anger would be lost in mourning, and we'd have to start the healing process way back at square one.

"But what about when he left again?" I ask softly. Her eyes snap to mine, and the agony there causes me physical pain. "That's what I thought," I whisper, tearing my gaze from hers. She lets out a disconcerting whimper, curling into herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Aria?"

We both look up to see a young woman with long, impeccably straight brown hair standing in the doorway, concern written in every inch of her face. This must be Kay, whom I did not have the pleasure of meeting yesterday, as she had had to go home after the game, while Drew came to supper.

"Hey, Kay," Aria mumbles glumly, shooting a look at me. I take this as my cue to bow out gracefully before being forcefully booted from the room.

"I'll leave you two ladies alone," I say with a smile at Kay. She smiles back politely as she waits for me to leave before going into the room and shutting the door gently behind her.

Girl time, I guess.

* * *

**A/N**: I was going to keep going, but it would have gotten way too long. It's already seventeen pages long! Guess I'm just on a roll with the super-long touch-feely stuff I've been up to lately. This chapter was originally going to happen in the same time frame as last chapter, starting with Saturday morning and taking you through the Quidditch game, but I realized about half-way through how hard it would be to have Aria crying her heart out one moment and then laughing in the living room with Drew by the time Jake accidentally Apparated into the back yard. So yeah.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and please review! You all rock! Cookies and lemonade for everyone! Yaay!


	15. Birthday

**A/N**: Here's chapter fifteen for you! Not much to say really. R&R if you will! Love you all, thanks for all the reviews last chapter! This one gets a little more lighthearted than the last couple from Aria toward the middle, at least until the end, sorry bout that part. Anyway, read on!

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Birthday**

Aria

Kay sits down on the bed and stares at me for a few seconds in silence, her head cocked to the side, watching me curiously. I sigh at her.

"What, Kay?"

"Tell me about him," she says softly, and I feel my expression twist, but she doesn't do or say anything to take back her question, tell me it's okay, I don't really have to talk about him if I don't want to. Maybe that's what I like about her so much. She's so friendly and easy to get along with, but she refuses to let me run or hide from my problems they way everyone else seems to be willing to do.

"What do you want to know?" I ask. Her gaze holds mine levelly, and even when I glance away I have to look back, finding her still watching me, waiting silently. I sigh quietly.

"Jake … he's …" I trail off, not sure what to say, and her expression softens. I half expect her to let the subject drop, but she doesn't. She waits patiently. I briefly entertain the thought that she would make a very good counselor or psychiatrist.

"I love him," I say at last, choking on the words as I say them aloud, something I've never done before. I say them again, loving and hating the way they feel in my mouth. "I love Jake."

"I kind of figured," she says, and I give her half a smile, realizing she's already deduced that one herself, and is waiting for something else.

"He's my best friend. He's always been my best friend – since I was eleven years old, he's always been there for me. I can't even remember a time since we started school where we've been apart for more than a couple of days, except for right after my mum died, when I spent two weeks with my grandparents," I tell her.

"How long has he been gone?" she asks quietly. I bite back tears.

"A little over a month."

"When's he coming back?"

"I don't know," I whisper, and the tears slip down my face.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and I know she means it. I look at her and somehow find the nerve to ask a question of my own.

"Did someone ever leave you?" I ask, and a sad smile takes over her face.

"Yeah. Once, but it was a long time ago."

"What was his name?" I ask, truly curious now and not just looking for a reason to shift the focus of the conversation away from me. She scrutinizes me for a few seconds, obviously wondering about my sincerity, but she answers after a while.

"Ben. He was …" she pauses, a reminiscent smile creeping across her expression. "Ben was great. He was so funny and smart, and really kind. He loved little kids and animals and old people … he loved everybody," she says with a small laugh.

"So what happened?"

"I'm not really sure," she murmurs, the smile disappearing. "I thought everything was going great. We were sixteen," she says with a roll of her eyes. "We thought we were on top of the world because we were in love. I didn't go to Hogwarts, you know," she tells me, and for some reason this surprises me, even as I search my memory of older students at school for some memory of her.

"My mum taught me all I needed to know about magic. She's a great witch, and a terrific mother. Ben … he was a Muggle," she whispers, glancing away from me. "I don't know why I thought it wouldn't bother him, me being a witch. Maybe I figured he would love _me_ so much that it wouldn't matter. But whatever it was, I decided to tell him."

She gives another bitter little laugh, snapping her gaze back to mine. "He didn't take it very well," she says. "He told me he needed some space to think about it, and I didn't see him for weeks. Finally he came back one day, told me he'd met another girl and that he never wanted to see me again," she finishes.

"That's terrible," I tell her, as though she doesn't already know that. She smiles sadly.

"Yeah. But I moved on. I figured if he really loved me, he would have accepted me for who I am. I try not to think about him much. It doesn't do me any good to think about what _could _have been or what _might_ have been. It doesn't matter. Last I heard he was madly in love with that other girl and is currently planning on marrying her."

I grimace sympathetically, marveling at how calm she seems about it all. I wouldn't be able to bear it if Jake ever met some other girl that he planned to marry. Then again, this was nearly four years ago for her, not a few weeks ago. I shake my head at her.

"It's not quite the same," I tell her softly. She sighs.

"Yeah, I know. But you can tell me anything, you know that right?" she asks, looking sincerely concerned for me. I smile at her.

"Of course I know that." So I do. I tell her everything, right from the beginning. How I met Jake – she laughs when I tell her about falling on him in the Leaky Cauldron trying to get out of the fireplace, how my mum didn't want me to be friends with him because she thought he was a Weasley, how strained our friendship was at first because of Sean's teasing, how after those first couple of months we were inseparable. I tell her about our first Christmas together, how weird he was after the first few days. I throw in the conversations I had with my father, not knowing who he was, not realizing the significance of every word he said to me.

I tell Kay about the rest of the year, how the three of us grew to be the closest friends to be imagined. I tell her about the car crash and the resulting two weeks of utter despair I endured because of it. I tell her about the funeral and the memorial service. I tell her about my dad taking me in, comforting me, loving me, eventually telling me who he was and inviting me to live with his family.

While I talk about that first summer here, remembering the horrible pain and loss I suffered, she listens with rapt attention, probably realizing just then that the mum I'd been talking about was _the_ Healer Granger extraordinaire and few people at St. Mungo's have heard this story firsthand.

After the first summer, the memories are easier to talk about. Almost all of them are of happiness – making the Quidditch team with Sean, spending endless months with Jake, slowly falling so completely in love with him. Summers were the best times – we had two and a half entire months of no school work, no pressure, no teachers – except for Harry, who came around every now and then – breathing down our necks. Kay's eyes widen as she realizes that Harry Potter is my uncle, and I have to smile at that.

The more I tell her, the more pressure I feel relieved of. I've been carrying around this terrible burden for so long, unable to truly talk to anyone about Jake and how I feel toward him. And now I have Kay, this unbelievably friendly and caring person who truly wants to understand.

When I finish telling her of my little episode from this morning, I let out an exhausted sigh and slump back in my chair. "You know everything now," I tell her helplessly. "I have no secrets from you."

She smiles at me and gets up from the bed, holding out her hand to help me up, which I accept gratefully. "We've been up here for nearly two hours," she says with a small laugh, and I find myself shocked. "Drew is probably wondering what's become of us."

I laugh with her as we walk downstairs, loving the suddenly weightless feeling I'm experiencing. If this is what friendship with Kay is going to feel like from now on, I never want the girl to leave.

I'm laughing at a joke of hers when we walk into the kitchen, greeted by the shocked faces of Keira, Dad, and Drew. I smile at them, and only Keira manages a returning smile. Dad glances at Kay in awe, but Drew's eyes are trained on me, and I smile gently at him. He manages a slight smile back eventually.

"Lunch will be ready soon," Keira says, breaking the silence. I smile at her gratefully, and she nods back with a small smile of her own.

I take my friends into the living room, and Drew sits on the sofa hesitantly, watching my face warily for some sign of the distraught and heartbroken person I was upstairs. I offer him a smile and sit down on the opposite end, inviting Kay to sit between us, but she perches on the settee under the window, stretching out to her full length, her feet dangling of the armrest.

"I'm sorry, Drew," I say, and he looks at me in confusion. "What happened upstairs … that was terrible of me. I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

"Don't apologize," he says gruffly. "It's not your fault."

I glance at Kay and she nods. So he does know. I wince slightly, and he looks instantly on edge as though afraid I'll start crying again. I marvel at how much discomfort my crying must have caused him. Hasn't he ever comforted someone before? I find it hard to believe, but then again, I realize how extremely lucky I got with the family I have. Dad and Sean … and Jake … they're all really good with tears. It never seems to bother them to see me cry – at least not the way it did with Drew. I mean, I'm sure they don't _like_ seeing me cry, but they take action to stop it instead of Drew, whose embrace earlier was so awkward it was as though he'd never held a girl before.

"Hey, it's a beautiful day outside," I say, pointing suddenly to the still cloudless blue sky. "We could play Quidditch!"

Kay grins eagerly and jumps up, and Drew smiles and stands as well.

"Sounds like fun."

.x.

The next two weeks fly by as Kay, Drew, and I get back into the redundant work schedule. Both of them pester me for an entire week, prodding me, asking me about my birthday. I insist that I don't want a big deal made over it, it's nothing special after all, but they ignore me and just keep asking. I refuse to give them any suggestions, telling them to use their imaginations if they really want to get me gifts because I don't _want _anything.

Well, that's not entirely true. There is only _one_ thing I really want for my birthday, but he's somewhere far away, obviously not thinking about me anymore. When Keira asked me what I wanted I told her as much, and she gave me a sad look before hugging me and telling me it would get easier. Yeah right.

"Tomorrow's the big day," Dad says with a grin over dinner. I roll my eyes at him. "You still haven't told me what you want," he prods with a teasing smile. I feel my annoyed smile slip away as Keira becomes suddenly very interested in her peas. I shrug and stuff a large chunk of lasagna in my mouth so I won't have to answer him, but I can feel his gaze on my face, waiting for me to finish.

"I don't want any_thing_," I tell him yet again, with only the slightest emphasis on the 'thing' part. He frowns, still picking it up, and the realization in his eyes leads to sadness.

"Oh, Aria," he sighs, dropping the subject and going back to his dinner.

"_My_ birthday's in two weeks!" Abby reminds us, and I smile at her. "I'm _finally_ going to be thirteen!"

"Finally?" Dad asks. "You're one of the oldest kids in your class."

"I've been waiting _forever_ to be thirteen," Abby insists. "Almost thirteen years!"

We all laugh at that, and she beams at the attention. Then Dad heaves a sigh.

"I can't believe you're going to be a teenager," he mutters in the exact same tone he used when _I_ turned thirteen. I grin at him across the table, and he shakes his head.

"Abby, wouldn't you be happier if you never grew up? Just think, you'd never have to get a job!" Dad says, and Keira rolls her eyes fondly at him before shooting me a grin. I smile back.

"Daddy," Abby admonishes. "Of course I want to grow up! And even if I didn't … you can't exactly stop it…" she says, trailing off thoughtfully.

"Darn," Dad sighs. I laugh slightly, and he smiles up at me. "Then again, I guess you didn't turn out so bad," he says to me. "If that's what I have to look forward to, I _suppose_ I can let you grow up," he adds to Abby. I blush and smile at him again. But my smile slips away when I think of how the entire time I was "growing up" I was completely in love with Jake, even if I didn't realize it until I was about fifteen. As far as I know, Abby doesn't have any friends that are boys … yet.

"I want to be a Healer like Aria when I grow up," Abby announces, and we all look at her in surprise. I smile at her, touched by her obvious admiration of me, and she grins back. Dad and Keira exchange amused smiles.

"Well, what do you know?" Keira murmurs to herself, sending me a smile that I gladly return.

.x.

The next day I awake rather reluctantly. I dress and trudge downstairs. Keira is serving breakfast to Henry and Abby as usual, and she smiles at me.

"Happy birthday," she says with a smile, and I sigh loudly, making her smile. "You should be happy! It's your _birthday_," she insists. I force a smile at her. I usually do like my birthday, honestly. But I haven't spent a birthday without Jake and Sean since I was eleven, and today_ neither_ of them is here.

I eat quickly, rushing as I suddenly realize I overslept by ten minutes and I'm going to be late for work. I wolf down my toast and eggs, hug Keira, ruffle Henry's hair, squeeze Abby's shoulder, and Apparate straight into the lobby before rushing off to clock in before I'm late.

I reach the Wilifrom Ward at exactly 8:01 and punch in. I know Eva will see I was late – even if only by one minute – and she'll probably come tell me off for it in front of everyone so she can keep her "bad cop" image going, but I know she won't mean it. Still, I hate how the other trainees all look so smug after I get scolded.

Drew sidles up to me. "Happy birthday Healer Granger," he whispers in my ear, and I grin up at him despite my resolution to try to ignore my birthday. Kay appears out of nowhere – literally, having just Apparated across the room – and hugs me instantly.

"Happy birthday!" she squeals loudly, causing _everyone_ to look over at us.

"Thanks, Kay," I mutter as she releases me. She grins.

"No problem!" she jokes.

The day passes uneventfully, and most people take off before lunch. Friday is always a slow day, which sounds odd for a hospital perhaps, but whatever. No one has huge magical injury problems on Fridays I guess.

Kay and Drew insist on buying me lunch, telling me to pick _anything_ I want, but I just get my usual turkey sandwich and glass of lemonade. They look disappointed, but still pay for me.

"So, we're coming to dinner tonight," Kay informs me. I look up in surprise. This is news to me.

"Your dad invited us," Drew explains. I wonder how Dad found the time to track them down. He probably just sent a letter or something.

"You'll love your present," Kay assures me, and I scowl at her playfully. She just rolls her eyes and grins.

So it is at five o'clock I Apparate home with Drew and Kay on my tail, arriving to delicious aromas wafting in from the kitchen. I smile appreciatively at Keira when she looks up. I'm about to tell her that it smells amazing when familiar arms wrap around me from behind and swing me in a full circle. I laugh and twist around in my brother's arms.

"Sean!" I exclaim, throwing my arms around his neck. He laughs and hugs me.

"You'd think we hadn't seen each other for an entire summer the way you go on," he chuckles as I release him. I grin up at him.

"I still missed you," I tell him. "I thought you wouldn't make it."

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world," he assures me, hugging me once more. The look on his face when he pulls back though makes me positive that Keira or Dad told him about _that _Sunday, and it makes me question whether he came back for the sole purpose of seeing me, or if he was worried of what today would become if he wasn't here, and that hurts in a way I can't explain.

"You okay?" he asks, seeing my face. His concern is so deep and so sudden that I know exactly what he's thinking and I hate it. I do my best to smooth out my expression though, and I smile at him sincerely.

"I'm happy to see you," I say truthfully. "I miss you."

Sometimes, it's like we're not the same age at all. I feel a lot younger than him suddenly, seeing him the way Abby usually does – as a role model, a hero, a _big_ brother, instead of practically my twin (despite not being blood-relatives), separated by only three months.

"Hey, Drew, Kay," Sean says, suddenly taking notice of them. Drew smiles, and Kay positively beams at him. I laugh slightly, and her eyes snap to me, narrowing just enough to make me feel guilty for laughing at her little crush on my brother, despite the fact that she's a year and a half older than him – nearly two years older than me.

We settle into the living room, Kay once more claiming the settee that she declared she was queen of last Sunday, making Drew and me laugh hysterically at her for ten full minutes. The image of her standing on the small sofa with one arm in the air triumphantly, announcing that she was now Queen of Settee-Land is burned permanently into my brain, and even thinking about it makes me grin.

Her plans however are spoiled by the fact that Sean once declared the settee _his_ about three summers ago when Skyla was here and tried lying on it one afternoon, only to find herself booted to the ground. I can't blame any of them for trying to stake a claim to it – it's one of the most comfortable places in the house.

So while Kay stretches out across what she thinks is _her_ personal sofa, Sean is standing there scrutinizing her. He glances at me with raised eyebrows as if to say _'Has no one told her?'_ and I grin at him, settling on the larger sofa with Drew.

"Ahem," Sean says, drawing her attention to him. She looks confused at his expectant expression. "I believe you're sitting in my spot."

"Am I?" she asks nonchalantly. "That's too bad."

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," he says with a grin, starting toward her. "That's _my_ spot, and _you're_ in my way."

"Hm. Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" Kay says with a flirtatious smile. I roll my eyes at Drew, who grins back in amusement.

"Move," Sean demands.

"Um. No," says Kay, staring at him daringly. He lunges for her and in one fluid motion she's lying on the floor and Sean is stretched completely across the settee, his legs dangling a good two feet off the end of the armrest. Has he gotten taller?

Drew and I laugh at the shocked expression Kay's face as she picks herself up. She stands there a second staring at Sean's triumphant smirk.

"Excuse me, but now _you're_ in _my_ seat."

"No, I think you're mistaken."

"I think I'm not."

"What makes you think this is _your_ seat? You don't live here."

"Neither do you," Kay points out, and I let out a laugh. True enough.

"I have a bedroom here though, and you don't."

"Doesn't make a difference. Still my seat."

"What makes you think so?" asks Sean for the second time.

"Well, I declared myself Queen of Settee-Land last Sunday, that's why." Sean stares at her for a full three seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Sure you did," he gasps. Kay's expression is one of mock-outrage.

"I _did!_ And Drew and Aria christened me. So move."

"I don't think so."

Kay gives a grave sigh, and he stops laughing. "Then I'm afraid … I'll have to tickle you," she says sadly. He smirks, not believing she'll actually do it – they barely know each other. Obviously. Sean has no idea how serious Kay is.

"Sorry," he says with a grin.

"Me too," she says, shaking her head sadly. She casts us a sorrowful look before turning back to him and pouncing.

Sean squirms as her long fingers find his ribs, his sides, under his arms, the back of his neck, behind his knees – all of his most ticklish spots. His face screws up at the effort of keeping his laughter contained, but Kay doesn't give up easily.

Eventually he has the sense to grab her wrists in an effort to stop her. But he jerks a little too hard and her arms go flying out from under her. Seeing as that was all that was holding her up as she really leaned into her tickling, she falls forward until their faces are mere centimeters apart, staring at one another in shock. Drew starts snickering but I elbow him in the ribs to shut him up before he ruins the moment. He opens his mouth to complain and I elbow him again. He finally sees that my lovely brother and Kay are still staring at each other, their eyes wide.

_Kiss her! _I scream in my head. _Kiss her! Do it _now_ you idiot!_

Slowly Kay sits up, and I sigh softly. What a waste of a perfect moment. Boys are so stupid sometimes. They don't recognize the opportune moment when it presents itself and then they just ruin everything! Stupid boys.

"We could share it," Sean suggests softly, and Kay smiles, looking relieved. A teasing grin takes over her face as she recovers.

"You can be my king," she allows, and he chuckles.

"Sounds like a plan." Sean sits up and lets her sit where his legs had been. She plops down and swings her feet up across his lap, her ankles barely clearing the armrest on his other side. He stares at her for a few seconds before grinning and shaking his head.

"You girls just always have to dominate, don't you? I blame Aria for teaching you such indecency," he scolds, and I laugh as I realize I'm stretched out across the sofa with my feet on Drew's leg.

"I mean, honestly Aria, is your need to dominate so strong that you must also corrupt the rest of the female world?" he admonishes me now. "First Skyla, now Kay? What kind of friend are you?"

I try to scream at him with my eyes as Kay shifts uncomfortably at the mention of Skyla, who of course I neglected to mention Sean had a ginormous crush on when we talked last Sunday. In fact, I wonder if I ever mentioned Skyla at all. I was too focused on Jake, and now I don't remember if I told Kay about her or not. _Whoops._

"Skyla didn't need me to corrupt her, Sean, she was already a little snot," I say good-naturedly, and he grins.

"I guess that's true. I wonder how she's doing. Have you heard from her since school let out?" he asks, completely engrossed in our conversation now. I'm going to have to give him a rather painful reminder.

"No. I wonder how her relationship with Aiden is going, considering he's off in Australia and all," I say pensively, and his expression sours slightly, remembering that Skyla and Aiden had been very close to a serious relationship when we finished school.

"They probably broke up," he says confidently. I frown at him.

"I doubt it," I say cruelly. I glance at Kay to see her watching us, looking a little disappointed. Drew is paying rapt attention to us, listening curiously.

"Who's Skyla?" Kay asks softly after a short silence.

"She was one of our best friends at Hogwarts – she used to spend the summers here with us," I explain. "She's the only reason I kept _sane_ having two guys for best friends," I add with a grin.

"Sane," Sean snorts. "You've never been sane."

"It's your fault," I tell him matter-of-factly, and he laughs.

"Maybe your problem was that your best friends also happened to live with you," he suggests, and I have to force a smile this time at the reminder. He seems to realize what he said immediately, and he looks instantly repentant.

"Oh, Aria, I'm-"

"I'm fine," I say with as light a tone as I can manage. It comes out sound a little strangled, and I avoid looking at Drew, who tenses beside me.

"Lunch is ready!" Keira calls from the kitchen, and Drew is the first one out of the room. Sean looks after him with a weird look.

"What's his problem?" he asks. Kay and I sigh in unison.

"He's a little weirded out by the whole Jake thing," I whisper, feeling a twinge of pain as I say his name.

"He fancies you?" Sean asks in surprise, and I stare at him. He might not be the brightest crayon in the box, he's always been pretty observant. I can't believe he didn't pick up on it sooner. Kay is staring at him in surprise too. We exchange a perplexed look before leaving him standing there, shaking our heads at his unexpected stupidity.

Dinner passes smoothly. Dad teases poor Kay and Sean until I nearly have to throw my baked potato at his head to get him and his tactlessness to shut up.

"Seriously though you two, you make a pretty cute couple," he says now with a wink. Kay's eyes are trained firmly on her plate and Sean shifts uncomfortably. I aim a kick at Dad under the table and accidentally catch Keira, who jumps and glares at me. I cast her and apologetic smile and glance toward Dad, and she gets the message. A second later I see him wince in pain as she stomps on his foot.

"How was work?" Keira asks, shifting the focus to me again. I shrug.

"Boring. Nothing interesting ever happens on Fridays," I say, and Drew and Kay nod in agreement.

"How's training going, Sean?" she asks instead, and Sean launches into a full-scale description of his last session, entrancing both Abby and Henry, as well as a certain brown-haired coworker of mine. I exchange a grin with Keira at the way Kay is listening with her undivided attention, not even touching her food.

Sean's descriptive training sessions take us all the way through dessert and back into the living room. He and Kay stake out the settee once more, much to Abby's disgruntlement, as _she's_ usually the only one Sean shares his spot with. Abby flounces away to sit on the floor near the fireplace, pouting openly about having been turned out of her seat.

"That's quite enough, son," Dad says as Sean's about to start up on _another_ session he had. Sean clamps his mouth shut, flushing and looking slightly abashed at his rambling.

"Well, Aria, I know you said you didn't want anything for your birthday…" Keira starts, and I make a face at her as she drags a wrapped package from under her seat. I see similar items appear in Drew's, Kay's, and Sean's hands, and I glower at all of them playfully.

"Open mine first," Kay urges, shoving the present into my hands. I open it slowly, and everyone sighs impatiently as I carefully tear the paper off.

"I'll open that for you if you don't get a move on," Sean grumbles, so I tear the rest of the wrapping of unceremoniously and lift the lid of the box it was wrapped around.

Inside the box is a bright blue, long-sleeved blouse with some sort of faint design covering it. I hold it up to inspect it, and smile over at Kay, who beams back at me.

"Thanks."

"You're very welcome!" she says happily, and I grin at her enthusiasm.

"Me next," Sean demands, holding out a badly-wrapped and lumpy package. I take it from him and unwrap it quickly so as not to antagonize him further. I shake out a silky-feeling green Ireland Quidditch Team jersey with _Weasley _written across the back, just like Sean's Quidditch robes. It's signed by every member of the team.

"Thanks, Sean!" I say sincerely, getting up and hugging him. "I love it."

"I thought you would," he says with a grin. "I would have gotten you your own set of robes, but Al wouldn't let me," he adds with a chuckle. I grin back as I sit back down, only to have Drew shove his present into my lap.

"I wasn't really sure what to get you," he mumbles uncomfortably as I start opening the small package curiously. I lift the lid of the box and smile at the delicate silver necklace lying there. Dangling off the end of it is a little silver rose.

"It's beautiful," I say, leaning over and hugging him. He smiles in pleased surprise and hugs me back.

"Our turn!" Henry shouts from across the room, leaping up and carrying a box nearly as big as he is to me. He sets it down on the floor in front of me. The box is very sloppily wrapped and lifting up one corner of the paper causes the rest to fall away. I open the box and look inside. The first thing I notice is the broom service kit sitting at the bottom of the box. I take it out and grin over at my younger brother and sister.

"Thanks guys."

"There's more!" Henry says, pointing at the box anxiously. I look back inside to see a white sheet of paper lying there, and I pick it up. Turning it over, I see a slightly crude drawing of a group of people. Written at the top of the paper are the words 'Our Family' and at the bottom 'To: Aria, From: Henry' is scrawled sloppily.

I gaze at the drawing with a smile. First is Dad, the tallest of all of the people, next to him is Keira. Beside her is Sean, and then Abby, Henry, and me. And next to me, nearly as tall as Dad, drawn with a big smile on his face and black hair sticking up everywhere, is Jake. I clench my teeth together in an effort to keep from crying.

"Don't you like it?" Henry asks sadly, and I glance up at him only to notice everyone staring at me.

"I love it," I say with a smile. He grins satisfactorily and goes back to sit beside Abby. I look back down at the drawing and sigh sadly. Of course he wouldn't know not to draw Jake. To him, Jake _is_ a part of the family – he's lived here since before Abby was born. I guess Jake's part of the family to me too, but in a very different way. I feel the paper being taken gently from my hands, and I look up to see Sean sitting on the arm of the sofa beside me. He looks at the picture for almost a full minute before speaking.

"This is a good drawing, Henry," he says at long last, and Henry beams at his praise. I feel Sean's arm slide around my shoulders and he hugs me wordlessly.

"Open our present," Keira says gently, holding out a small rectangular box. I take it and open it, curious as to what on earth it could be. I slit open the end of the box and pull out … a nameplate.

I laugh. Written on the nameplate in brass lettering is _Healer Aria Granger_. I show it to Kay and Drew, and they laugh too, and soon we're all laughing at the absurdity of the gift. A _nameplate_ for my _birthday?_

We laugh until we can hardly breathe. Finally we calm down, still grinning at each other.

"I guess I should get going," Drew says after a while, still smiling gently. "I promised my brother I'd look after his two kids tomorrow, and that's a job that requires me to be well-rested and energized," he adds with a grin. I smile at him.

"Thanks for coming," I say sincerely, hugging him as he stands to go. He hugs me back and smiles down at me.

"See you Monday," he murmurs. Then he steps away from us, spins on his heel, and Disapparates.

"I should get going too. It's getting kind of late," Kay says rather reluctantly. I grin at her knowingly, and she just rolls her eyes with a smile.

"See you Monday, Aria. Unless you want to hang out before then," she adds with a serious look, telling me she's expecting to see me tomorrow at the latest. I grin at her.

"You can come over tomorrow if you really want to," I say, rolling my eyes back at her. She grins gratefully.

"You guys should come to my game tomorrow," Sean speaks up eagerly. "I actually get to play this time."

"I want to go!" Abby and Henry shout in unison.

"Way to go, Sean," I hiss, and he grins ruefully.

"Sure, guys. I only have four tickets though," he says, looking back up at me. "So Drew wouldn't be able to go."

"He's playing uncle tomorrow, remember?" I remind him, and he nods.

"That's right. Okay then. Four tickets for three lovely ladies and one smart little gentleman," he says formally, pulling the tickets from his back pocket and flourishing them at me. I roll my eyes and take them.

"One o'clock, we'll be there," I promise. He grins, hugs me, goes to Keira and Dad, hugs both of them, hugs Abby and Henry, and comes back to me and hugs me again. I laugh at him, and he just smiles.

"See you tomorrow," I say, giving him one last hug. He squeezes my shoulder.

"See ya. Bye Kay," he adds with a warm smile at her. She flushes slightly but smiles back just as eagerly.

"Bye, Sean."

And with that, he Disapparates. Kay hugs me, thanks my parents for dinner, waves to Abby and Henry, and disappears as well.

"Well then, I guess you four will have fun tomorrow," Dad says, looking more at me than at the younger kids. I sigh, realizing I just stuck myself with babysitting duty. Oh well. It's worth it if I get to see Sean play.

"I guess I should get to bed," I say rather reluctantly. I wave my wand and my birthday gifts jump into a neat little pile, which I levitate ahead of me.

"Night, birthday girl," Dad says with a grin. I smile back at him.

"Good night, Dad."

"Hope you got everything you wanted," he adds, and I turn away from him sharply, suddenly mad at him for ruining the moment. He knows he shouldn't have said it, and his hands on my shoulders are comforting a second later.

"I'm sorry, kid," he whispers, wrapping me in a hug and kissing the side of my head. "I know you wish he was here."

I can't answer because of the lump in my throat, so I just nod. He sighs and hugs me again. "I love you, Aria. Don't ever forget that."

"Love you too, Dad," I manage before pulling away. I manage to make it up one flight of stairs before the tears start to fall.**

* * *

A/N**: Sorry to make it so depressing at the end again. Ah, well. I've been on some sort of writing binge lately. Have you realized how _long_ these chapters are? _Eighteen_ pages this time! I've already got chapter sixteen done, and I'll get it posted as soon as I'm through editing it, promise! I actually wrote it before I wrote this one, but then I realized that that didn't make any sense, and had to go back and write this. And all in one day! I wrote _two_ chapters in _one _day! Actually, I wrote _three_ because I also wrote a chapter of GFHH today. Woohoo! That just shows what about eight hours on a computer with sucky internet connections will do to you. Please review!


	16. Announcement

A/N: Alright, we're back with Jake again. Now, some of you had the right idea about what's about to happen, and I'm not going to be so arrogant to say it wasn't totally predictable, because it was. Extremely so. But, predictable as it was, it's crucial to the plot, so please don't be mad! I still love you!

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Announcement **

Jake

I stare morosely out the kitchen window, leaning on the sink, watching the rain beat down relentlessly on the glass pane and the sill outside it. I hate the rain. I don't care what Aria says about it being beautiful and clean, it traps you inside and soaks everything through, making the world soggy and sloppy and _wet_. And I hate it.

It's been three weeks since I went to see Ron. Danni hasn't been around once. It's been weird not having her here. I mean, I don't think of her as more than a friend … not _really_. And even if I do … sorta … I don't _love_ her. Not like I love Aria. But I still miss her. Danni keeps life interesting if nothing else. Without her around, my days are extremely dull.

Even the fact that we work _at the same place_ hasn't helped. I checked with our boss – an extremely crabby old witch named Roberta who never smiles at anyone who isn't a paying customer – and all of Danni's shifts have been filled by someone else, but Roberta insisted she hasn't quit. She claimed Danni has been calling in sick. But _three weeks?_ That's a long time to be sick.

I tried calling her house – a number that had been posted on the refrigerator for more two months now that I somehow had not noticed before, but the man who answered every time kept saying she wasn't home. After the fourth time, I had been told quite rudely not to call there anymore.

If not for the rain, I would march down the street and knock on her front door myself and drag her outside. I'm so bored and … and_ lonely_, a feeling I haven't truly experienced before now. There's always been _someone _around. Now the only person is my grandmother, and talking to her can only keep me interested for so long. She never talks about things I actually _want _to know. She avoids the topic of Danni entirely, and whenever I start heading in the direction of my parents she hedges the subject with a question of her own, or a random memory of something entirely irrelevant.

I eye the telephone again, just needing someone to talk to, preferably someone who won't scream at me not to call his home unless I want him to come hunt me down or something. I sigh. This is so_ boring! _I'm seriously starting to regret taking the day off from work at the coffee shop.

Just then the doorbell rings. Surprised and suddenly excited, I rush to the front door and yank it open eagerly. There, standing on the porch, completely drenched and wretched-looking is Danni, nervously shifting from foot to foot, looking anxious and scared. I stare at her for maybe half a second before completely unexplainable joy shoots all the way through me and I grin at her.

"Danni!" I exclaim in my excitement to see another living person who won't yell at me to bring them their coffee faster before they die of old age. I wrap her in a hug in my enthusiasm. She laughs slightly, but doesn't return the hug, which I notice instantly and release her, suddenly embarrassed at my display of affection for her. She avoids my gaze as I try to catch her eye. I'm not quite sure what's wrong with her now, because before today she would have been overjoyed to receive such a response from me upon finding her on my doorstep.

"Hey, Jake," she says, laughing nervously. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," I say, standing back to let her pass. She turns toward the living room, mostly out of habit I'd guess, but stops, stares at the sofa for a second, then spins around and walks into the dining room. I follow her, suddenly concerned at the twisted expression that crossed her face a second ago.

"Are you alright?" I ask softly, watching her perch on one of the barstools sitting under the overhanging counter jutting into the dining room from the kitchen. She shifts nervously, not looking at me, her eyes darting around the room. I notice her shiver from being so wet.

"Do you want a blanket or something?"

She finally looks at me, the shadow of a smile on her face. "No, thanks," she says softly, looking down again. My concern for her deepens. Danni is _not_ a quiet person. She's loud and excited and generally a very happy person most of the time. I'm about to ask again what's wrong, but she catches my gaze once more, and the question dies on my lips.

"Jake…" she sighs uncertainly, fidgeting, not quite able to hold eye contact. I wonder if it would make things better or worse to go sit beside her. I push myself off the wall I'm leaning on with the intention of going to stand nearer to her, but her eyes suddenly flash at me, and the fleeting expression there makes me lean back again. Was that … _fear_ in her eyes?

"What is it, Danni?" I ask, starting to feel nervous myself. This is not _normal_ for her. I may not have known her for very long, but I know that I've _never_ seen her like this _ever_. And it scares me.

"We … we need to talk, Jake," she sighs, and I nearly laugh at the absurdity of those words on her lips. As if we were dating and she's planning on breaking up with me.

But my blood turns to ice a second later. Does she _think_ we're dating? Does she think that because we had … Oh, Merlin.

I let her continue anyway, just in case there's a slim chance that she's talking about something else, but I can't imagine what it would be. I watch her face as she debates with herself for a few seconds. Her expression changes constantly, flitting from fear to anger to discomfort to sadness to uncertainty to fear again. She glances at me again, sees me watching her and blushes, ducking her head. My worry only deepens at that - when has Danni ever been embarrassed around me? I try to come up with an answer to my mostly rhetorical question, but I lose that train of though when she opens her mouth to speak.

"Can…" she trails off and takes a deep breath, still staring at the countertop. I wait for her to continue patiently. "Can we please get out of this house?" she whispers. "I've been stuck inside for three weeks. Can we go somewhere?"

The thought of going anywhere in the downpour outside makes me cringe inside, but she looks so trapped here inside that I agree anyway. I nod at her, smiling as comfortingly as I can. "Of course. We can go anywhere you want."

Her expression sours for a reason I can't understand, but she gets up and leads the way to the door, not even waiting for me on the porch but walking right out into the rain. I hurry to catch up to her.

"Where to?" I ask, doing my best not to cringe away from the pounding rain. She doesn't answer, just turns right at the end of the sidewalk that leads to the house from the street. I keep pace with her easily enough, but as we walk, the silence between us grows, and I start to wonder where we're even going.

I'm just about to crack and say _anything_ to break the silence when we turn yet another corner, coming to a neighborhood park and playground. The entire area is deserted on a day such as this, and she leads the way down the narrow paved path through puddles that soak clear through my shoes and socks, but I don't pause at the sudden wetness, slogging along through the water after Danni.

She sinks into one of the swings at the playground and despite my better judgment I follow suit, thoroughly soaking my pants as I do so. Then again, I was already pretty thoroughly soaked through, so this doesn't make much of a difference. She doesn't look at me, her head bent against the rain, avoiding my gaze.

"Danni, what's _wrong?_" I ask after two full minutes of silence. She takes a deep breath and finally looks up. I can't tell if the tracks down her face are from tears or the rain.

x.x

Danni

I've never found talking to Jake to be hard before. He's so easy-going and friendly, and he's so funny. Everything about him makes him so easy to love that it almost hurts. I've hated having to stay home the last few weeks, hiding from him, avoiding him. But how was I supposed to face him, _knowing…?_

I look up at him, and his dark brown eyes are full of concern. I stare back wordlessly, if only to prolong the moment I'll make him hate me. Because I know he will. There's no way he'll ever speak to me again once I tell him. He'll give me a disgusted look and get up and walk away and never come back, never speak to me or look at me again. I feel tears well up in my eyes at the thought of losing him. He's my best friend – my only true friend. His face twists at the sight of my tears, his concern deepening. He reaches out to wipe one away as it falls, leaving a hot trail down my face.

"Danni, please talk to me," he whispers sadly. "I hate seeing you like this." _You'll hate _me_ in a moment, _I think, and more tears slide down my face. I shake my head at him. I can't tell him. I can't. If I do, I'll lose him.

It suddenly occurs to me that if I didn't want to lose him, I should have been spending the last three weeks with him instead of hiding away in my bedroom, refusing to take his calls. More tears fall at that thought.

"Danni," he groans, his voice agonized. "Please talk to me. This is driving me crazy."

"I can't," I whisper.

"_Why?"_

"You'll hate me," I say, a sob choking my voice.

"No, Danni. I couldn't hate you," he insists, and his comfort only hurts worse. Why is he being so _nice_ to me?

"You'll definitely hate me," I whisper, locking eyes with him. His gaze searches my face with deepest concern as he slowly shakes his head back and forth.

"I promise I won't get mad."

"You can't promise that," I tell him sullenly. A sliver of a smile graces his face for a moment.

"I promise not to take it out on you then," he says, his eyes twinkling teasingly. I can't even muster up a smile at his joking tone, and he frowns again. "Danni, please," he begs, his voice strained again.

I take a deep breath, look away, then look back at him again. He's still watching me expectantly. I keep my eyes trained on his, the words that will make him hate me poised on my lips.

"Jake…" His eyes are boring into mine, confusion and compassion and concern there, a painful reminder of what I'll be missing when I lose him. "Jake, I'm… I'm going to… I mean… I…" I trail off and shake my head at him.

"I can't do it," I say softly, and his expression softens.

"Yes you can," he whispers looking at me confidently. "You can tell me anything. You know that." I used to anyway. I take another deep breath and close my eyes, blocking out his caring expression, hoping to make it less painful.

"I'm pregnant."

x.x

Jake

The world stops for a few seconds. My heart and lungs seem to have stopped working. I stare at her, not comprehending, not _wanting_ to comprehend what she just said.

And then, the entire world explodes in painful clarity. My pulse takes off, and my breathing quickens, and every raindrop pelting against my skin burns. Her face is suddenly in sharp contrast to everything around us, her eyes closed tightly, her expression pinched in sorrow, pain, and fear.

I almost ask her if she's kidding, but the expression on her face tells me not to. She'd probably cry ... _more_. My head whirls, spitting out random thoughts as it goes, all blurring together in a confusing haze.

_Aria will be furious… _

_Ron will be even more furious… _

_I can't stay here! _

_What have I done? _

_I ruined her life. _

_She's only sixteen – seventeen now, I guess. I missed her birthday. _

_Oh, I missed Aria's birthday too. That was what, a week ago? Two weeks ago? _

_That means I missed Abby's birthday too. No wait, that's in a couple days. _

_Holy crap. Danni's pregnant! _

_I'm going to be a father. _

That one snaps me out of my thoughts. Danni is staring at me apprehensively, her breathing just as shallow as mine, looking terrified. I open my mouth to ask a question … I can't remember which one … but nothing comes out, so I close it again, trying to wet my suddenly dry lips and mouth.

I swallow again and again, trying to gain the ability to speak again. I become aware of the fact that my head is shaking back and forth, though whether to clear my thoughts or because I don't want to believe her, I'm not sure.

"Please say something," she whispers pleadingly after another long two minutes of silence. I open my mouth again. All that comes out is a long whoosh of air, and the sound releases something in Danni. Tears well up in her eyes and her face crumples into disappointed grief.

"Don't cry," I say at last, the only thing I can say intelligently at the moment. She looks up at me, her tears stemming almost immediately, looking shocked and incredulous. She lets out a nearly hysterical laugh.

"That's all you have to say?" she laughs cruelly and sarcastically. It suddenly occurs to me that we're both soaking wet in the cold rain.

"You shouldn't be out here," I say, knowing we're both catching horrible colds. "You'll get sick."

Her incredulous look deepens to open disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," she says, jumping up and coming to stand in front of me. I look up at her from my seat, rain falling into my eyes, blurring my view of her.

"I tell you I'm _pregnant_ and all you have to say is 'don't cry' and then to lecture me on being out in the rain?! What's _wrong_ with you?" she asks accusingly, her voice choked with tears – of anger or relief I can't quite discern.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask softly. At the moment, my thoughts are still too jumbled to think of anything about what this _means_. All I can think about is how she is going to get a horrible cold if she stays out here too much longer.

"I don't know!" she cries. "But I thought you'd say _something!" _

"Like what?"

"Aren't you _mad?_"

"No…"

She lets out a strange noise somewhere between a shriek and a laugh, and I can see hot tears running down her face. I stand up, and she takes a step back, shaking her head at me in amazement and disbelief.

"You're a strange guy, Jake."

"Sorry," I say with a shrug, not sure what to apologize for. But it gets the desired effect.

She lets out a real laugh, even if it's short. She rolls her eyes and an amused smile overcomes her face. "Why aren't you mad?"

"I'm still too confused," I admit, and her smile turns sadder. "But I'm not going to get mad," I remember. "I promise."

She sighs and takes my hand, leading me back down the path toward the street. Again we walk in silence all the way back home, and she leads me inside, to the living room, sitting down on the couch. For the briefest second the question of what she wants to do here crosses my mind, but I push that thought away. Of course she doesn't want to…

She pulls her hand out of mine, scooting all the way across the couch and curling up into a little ball, resting her chin on her knees, her golden eyes watching me warily.

"Pregnant?" I whisper at last, remembering what she'd said. Tears jump to her eyes, but they don't fall. She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving my face.

"I don't even know what else to ask," I say after another infinite silence, during which she never broke eye contact.

"Anything," she whispers back. "Just talk to me. I've missed you."

"You've been away three weeks," I accuse her, and she nods, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry. I was … afraid," she admits, looking down for a short second before her gaze jumps back to mine.

"I was lonely," I tell her, and the guilt is interrupted by a small smile.

"Me too."

"You should have told me sooner," I tell her, and she winces.

"I know."

"When did you find out?" I ask, suddenly curious. I'm no expert on how these things work of course, but she can't have known too long. It would have taken awhile for … symptoms … to show up….right? Did those "symptoms" even show up this soon? Or was it something else that caused her to worry enough to question if she was pregnant? These thoughts only manage to confuse me, and I push them from my mind.

"About a week ago."

"So why didn't you come see me _before_ then?" I demand. She winces again.

"I was afraid it would be weird after…" she doesn't finish, her loaded expression meaning enough. After we had completely meaningless sex? Yeah, I guess she would be afraid it would be weird. My thoughts make me wonder. Meaningless? Is that what it was? I can't tell anymore. I certainly don't feel a strong desire to repeat that particular day with her. I try to think back to what we're supposed to be talking about.

"Maybe," I say with a shrug. "I guess we'll never know if it would have been." I say it rather flippantly, lightly, but the way her expression twists at my words make me wonder if she was hoping we _would_… I try not to think about that.

"Still not mad?" she asks tentatively. I give her a slight smile.

"No. Just … overwhelmed," I say, finally naming the feeling pressing against me from all sides. She nods in understanding.

"I guess that's not surprising."

We sit there staring at each other for another long minute as I try to think of something else to say or ask. But all I can do is look at her face, trying to imagine her as a _mother_. Or imagine _me _as a father. Just as panic is starting to take over, her voice brings me back to the present.

"So what do we do now?" she asks.

"_Do?_" I ask, confused. What does she mean, _do?_ We have to wait nine months don't we? _More like just over eight,_ I think ruefully.

"Are we… I mean… Do you think we should … you know …" she pauses uncomfortably, and I wait for her continue. "Should we … get rid of it?" she whispers, not looking at me, inspecting her wet socks as if they contain hidden treasures. _What_ did she just suggest?

"_Get rid of it?"_ I ask, appalled. She looks up at my tone, her face nervous.

"It was just a question," she says softly, looking down again.

"Of course not," I spit, and _now_ I'm angry, and she can tell. "What right do you have to suggest that?"

"I was just asking a question!" she exclaims defensively. "I just wanted to know your opinion on it!"

"Then _no_, I don't want you to _get rid of it!_ Of course not!" I stare at her, livid at her for suggesting such a thing, and something occurs to me. "Why? D-do you?" I ask softly. Her eyes widen fearfully.

"No! No, honestly Jake, no!"

"Then why…?"

"I wanted to know what you think," she whispers softly. I have a feeling that's not exactly what she means, and I have to wonder what would have happened if I'd said _yes. _Would she have done it simply because I wanted her to? I certainly hope not.

I stand up, and her eyes follow me warily. I walk over to her and get down in front of her, and she looks down at me guardedly. I wrap my arms around her and hug her, and she stiffens instantly, but I don't let go. I hold her, and slowly her posture relaxes, and her arms wrap around my neck. A few seconds later she's sobbing, clutching me close, shaking hard.

"Shh," I murmur, stoking her hair softly. Very slowly I rise up and settle myself on the sofa next to her, and she crawls into my lap like a child and continues to cry with her head against my shoulder. "Shh," I whisper again, tracing small circles on her back, rubbing slowly and softly, hugging her close.

"I'm sorry," she sobs. "I'm so sorry, Jake."

"For what?" I ask in surprise.

"Everything. For _that_ day… for falling in love with you… for _this_," she sobs, and I nearly laugh at how absurd she's being.

"Don't be sorry," I tell her. "It's just as much my fault as it is yours." I know those words aren't comforting, especially since she lets out another sob as I say this, but they're true. It takes two after all.

"I'm sorry for being such a wreck," she mutters, pulling back and wiping her eyes. I smile slightly and hug her again.

"Not your fault either," I remind her gently. She doesn't smile, but I'm not expecting her to.

"I'm scared," she whispers at long last, and I realize what was there under the overwhelming feelings I was having.

"Me too," I tell her, and there are suddenly tears in _my _eyes. She wraps herself around my neck again, and I bury my face in _her_ neck, willing myself not to cry, telling myself to be strong for her. It doesn't work. Hot tears slip down my nose and onto her shoulder, and she squeezes my neck, though whether for her comfort or for mine I'm not sure.

I don't know how long we sit there holding each other before the front door opens and the sound of pounding rain increases tenfold. I can hear my grandmother in the front hall muttering to herself, shaking out her umbrella, taking off her coat. Danni pulls back from me and wipes her face before getting up off my lap and settling herself beside me on the sofa again. She looks up at me nervously, but smiles suddenly, albeit sadly, reaching forward and wiping my cheek off with the back of her hand. I smile at her softly and take her hand in mine.

"Jake?" my grandmother calls out, obviously a bit unnerved by the sudden silence of the house. I usually at least have the television running, if for no other purpose than some _noise_ in the usually empty house.

"In here," I say in a normal voice, and her head appears around the corner. She takes in the sight of Danni and me, still wet and cold from the rain and her eyebrows shoot up curiously, even as a smile overcomes her face.

"It's good to see you again, Danni," she says warmly, and Danni manages a vague smile at her. Her hand tightens around mine fearfully.

"Yeah … I haven't been feeling so great lately," she says softly.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Mmhm."

If my grandmother is anything, it's perceptive. She takes in our linked hands, Danni's distraught face, our soaked clothing, our rain-plastered hair, and her expression deepens into concern.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

Danni glances at me and I take a deep breath before glancing back up at my grandmother. I squeeze Danni's hand as comfortingly as I can manage before speaking.

"Well… the thing is…" I trail off nervously, and close my eyes for a second before opening them, suddenly remembering that Danni did the same thing before telling me. She notices too, and she smiles faintly at me.

"Danni's pregnant," I say softly, still looking at Danni. I hear my grandma's breath catch, hear her inhale sharply and make a small noise of disbelief, but I can't look at her.

"You're serious?"

I look up at that. Her face is full of shock and disbelief, just as I'm sure mine was not too long ago. I nod slowly, and anger replaces the disbelief for a second before being erased by something that makes my gut twist in guilt. Her face fills with disappointment as she looks at the two of us, and I'm sure she's questioning her trust in me, probably regretting ever opening her house to me, loving me so freely, leaving me alone with an underage girl I never would have met if I'd stayed away.

She looks at us like that for a moment longer before turning and walking away, disappearing down the hall. I count to seven before hearing her door shut with a sharp snap.

"Should I go?" Danni asks softly, looking horribly sad.

"No," I say carefully. "No, you can stay."

"She's going to want to talk to you alone," she whispers. I sigh and squeeze her hand.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

.x.

Danni's words prove to be true sooner rather than later. It's only an hour later that my grandmother's bedroom door opens and I can hear her marching up the hall. Danni slips out of my arms and slides to the far end of the sofa again. For the last sixty minutes we've been sitting here holding each other, mindlessly watching some stupid television show that I haven't caught a word of, draped in heavy blankets to keep the cold at bay.

I was sort of hoping she wouldn't want to speak to me until tomorrow morning at least. However, she appears in the doorway, her jaw set, and I know I have it coming. Danni looks up as well, managing innocent curiosity quite nicely from between the folds of her quilt, despite the fact that she knows exactly what's going on.

"Jacob," my grandmother says coldly, and now I'm certain of my fate – she's never called me Jacob before. "Jacob I need to speak to you in the kitchen."

I nod, discard my blanket, and follow her, throwing a look at Danni as I go, who grimaces sympathetically before turning back to the TV, pretending to be absorbed in the drama there.

"Sit," she commands, pointing at one of the stools. I obey without question, knowing I'm in for a verbal lashing here. And quite possibly getting kicked out.

"I don't even remember the last time I've been so disappointed in my own family," she spits angrily. I suddenly get an inkling of where my temper came from, but that slightly amusing discovery doesn't help the shame that washes over me.

"What were you thinking? That girl is barely seventeen years old! She's still in _school! _I _trusted_ you with her, Jacob! I let the two of you stay here _how _many afternoons alone? How many times?" she asks, blind fury overtaking everything. She's shaking she's so mad. _"How many times?" _she repeats sounding like she's waiting for an answer, and I realize what she's asking after a few seconds of scrabbling confusion.

"Once," I manage weakly. "Only once, I swear."

She glares at me coldly for a few seconds, still breathing heavily, calming down only marginally, but plainly still furious with me. "So is that what you were doing?" she asks after awhile. "Building up my trust with her until you knew you had an entire day alone with her?"

"No," I insist. "No, never! I didn't mean for it to happen. We just got carried away-"

"_Carried away?"_ she screeches. "Just a _little_," she sneers. I'm only now starting to see how deeply I've hurt her by doing this right under her own nose. I'm starting to understand that she'd pinned all of her hopes on me, taking me in on a whim, trying to make up for whatever she thought had gone wrong with her daughter. And then I went and did _this_ to her, completely ruining her trust in me and shattering whatever shreds of hope she had left.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Sorry won't change anything, Jake," she says, and the anger is gone, replaced by deep betrayal and hurt.

"I know that. And I'm sorry for that too. But I'm not going anywhere. You can kick me out and ban me from the house if you want to, but you can't keep me away from her, not now. I never had a real father, and just because I was stupid and got carried away isn't reason enough to leave her all alone – to leave my-our-_child_ without a father," I say sincerely. "I won't do to _anyone_ what was once done to me," I whisper, and her eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. I never meant to. And if you want me to move out, I'll leave tonight and find a flat somewhere. If you never forgave me, I wouldn't blame you," I say sadly.

"No, Jake, I don't want you to go," she says at last. "And of course I'll forgive you … eventually. I'm not going to lie to you though. I don't trust you. I seemed to think that because you were my grandson you were exempt from normal male hormones or something stupid like that. I don't want you to be alone with her," she tells me, and my chest constricts at what that would mean. How many times in the last two months have Danni and I spent the day together when my grandmother was _not_ home?

"Don't give me that look, Jacob," she says sharply, and I feel my expression morph into confusion. "You don't deserve enough trust to be left alone with her."

"You honestly think I'd let that happen again? Especially _now?"_ I ask incredulously. In case she _doesn't _remember that Danni is _pregnant_.

"I don't know anymore," she says coolly.

"I wouldn't," I whisper.

"I wish I could believe you."

I guess I deserve that. I stare at her sadly until she turns and walks away again. A moment later I hear her bedroom door open and close quietly. I sit there staring at the wall she'd been standing against – the same wall _I_ was standing against just a couple hours ago, watching Danni work herself into a nervous wreck – until I feel soft hands on my cheeks, wiping away tears; I hadn't realized I was crying.

I look up at her, and she doesn't smile. She looks at me with sympathy, still wiping at my cheeks, caressing my face lovingly and kindly. I reach up and take her hands in mine and pull her to me, needing her comfort, needing her arms wrapped around me. She smiles sadly, tears welling in her own eyes as her arms slip around my torso and tighten in a hug. I let her kiss my neck, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of her wet hair, resting my forehead against her collarbone.

We stay like that for an indefinite amount of time, silent except for the hum of the refrigerator in the background. She traces spirals on my back softly with her fingertips, and I kiss her shoulder softly. As I sit there, contemplating the complete state of ruin I've suddenly found my life in, I realize something. Even though I love Aria – so much so that it aches to think of her – and I don't feel quite _that_ strongly about Danni, I do care about her. A lot. And that losing her would be almost as terrible as losing Sean or Abby or Henry.

_Yuck,_ I manage to think. _Don't think of her like a sister!_ That would be disturbing on _so_ many levels. But … she's almost like family. I think of my friendship with Skyla from Hogwarts, feeling like it was an eternity ago that I sat in the grass by the lake with her and Aria and Sean instead of merely two and a half months ago. What I feel for Danni is stronger than that friendship. But I don't _love _her ... right?

I sigh in frustration, knowing I won't resolve this issue tonight, not while Danni is standing here, smelling beautiful and holding me comfortingly. It strikes me as ironic that _she's_ pregnant and _I'm_ the one that needs comforting.

"What's wrong?" she murmurs, pulling back to see my face.

"I think you should go," I sigh, and her face floods with sadness and disappointment. "You need sleep, and I need sleep, and we both need a little space to clear our heads," I continue so she won't think I'm sending her away because I don't enjoy her company – which I do, probably too much.

She nods sadly. "Okay. You're probably right." She smiles slightly at me, holding my gaze for a long second before leaning in and planting a very soft, gentle kiss on my lips. Before she can pull away I grab her wrist and kiss her back. She smiles and breaks contact, taking three steps backward, putting space between us.

"You're right," she says. "We need some space to clear our heads."

And with that she gives me a smile before walking away, heading out into the rain one more time. I move to the window and watch her until she disappears into the darkness. Then, with a heavy sigh, I trudge upstairs and flop down on my bed. What a mess I've created.

* * *

**A/N**: I'm sure most of you were expecting that. Or at least part of it. I was a bit surprised by Mrs. P's reaction myself, so don't feel bad if you were too. But it makes sense doesn't it? Please review! And don't be mad at poor Jake – he's very traumatized right now. Besides, he might not _love_ her, but he certainly _likes_ Danni, and it's not his fault! It's mine, really.

But c'mon, give the poor girl a chance! Danni's my favorite character! Especially now that I decided to change part of my original plan where she became extremely bitchy upon announcing her pregnancy, which I realized was totally random seeing as how she claimed to _love _Jake, and was actually a very nice person previously. So she's not going to be all bitchy now. Sorry if you wanted her to be. It didn't fit her, and the more I thought about it, I realized it didn't fit the rest of the plot either. So yeah.

Also, now that I've changed that little part of the plot, I'm starting to question whether or not Jake could fall in love with her – in original plans of course, he didn't because she was a complete monster, but now … well I'm not sure what's going to happen. This story kind of has a mind of its own now. But even if Jake _does_ somehow fall in love with Danni, he'll NEVER love her as much as he loves, Aria, okay? I PROMISE. If it came down to a non-pregnant Danni or Aria, he'd always choose Aria. That's all I'm going to say on that issue, since it'll come up in a future chapter anyway. Which isn't to say Danni is getting an abortion (effectively creating again a "non-pregnant" Danni) because she's not. The issue is addressed in an entirely different way. So _that_ is all I'm going to say on this issue. Once again: Danni is _not _getting an abortion.

Anyway, thanks for reading, everyone! Don't forget to review! Please don't be too mad, it's essential to the plot, okay?

Next chapter we'll see a bit of both Jake _and_ Aria, and we'll at least talk to Ron, if we don't get his pov. Okay, I'm done with yet another extremely long and quite possibly very confusing author's note. Toodles!


	17. Confession

**A/N**: Won't keep you up here long cuz I know you're all dying to read the chapter. Enjoy! And there's a surprise for you at the end if you haven't already spotted it (it's in the ending author's note). Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Confessing**

Jake

I wake up the next morning feeling disoriented and confused. It takes me awhile of lying there to bring back what happened yesterday. For minute or so I entertain the thought that it was all a dream, but I don't think I could be quite that lucky.

I sigh and swing my feet out of bed. I sit there for a few seconds to let the dizziness of sudden blood flow downward pass. Then, with a groan I stand up and go about the mundane task of getting dressed. I glance outside to see it's _still_ raining and grudgingly put on a long sleeved shirt before going downstairs.

No one is in the kitchen when I get there, which instantly puts me on edge, because in the two months that I've been living here, _never_ have I awoken before my grandmother. Not once. She's always been down here, already cooking breakfast or sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal reading her _Daily Prophet_ or _Witch Weekly_ magazine.

I pour myself some cereal and sit down at the table by myself, staring at the empty chair across the table where my grandmother has sat every morning for the last ten weeks. As I ponder my unusual aloneness, I can't help but wonder what Danni's up to.

That's when it hits me all over again like a stampede knocking me over and landing me flat on my back, winding me. My spoon clatters back into my half-empty bowl. _I'm going to be a father._ No matter how many times I thought that yesterday, it didn't sink in, not like this. Danni is going to have _my_ baby. _Our_ baby.

I shove my breakfast away and put my head in my hands with my elbows resting on the tabletop, trying to quell the sudden overwhelming fear rising within me. It takes me almost five minutes to realize that my shaking isn't just from the fear – there are tears rolling down my cheeks. I wipe them away impatiently. What good will crying like a scared little boy do?

When I look up I'm shocked to see my grandmother seated across the table from me, already eating her breakfast, calmly absorbed in an old copy of _Witch Weekly_. I stare at her in surprise and brewing anger at the cold distance between us.

Eventually she feels my eyes on her and glances up. She holds my gaze for a few seconds, her expression indiscernible yet somehow cool and disapproving. I open my mouth to say something, but I don't have any words to fix this, so I close it again. Her eyes drop back to her magazine and I feel some part of my heart break at her disappointment in me.

"I'm sorry," I whisper at last, standing up and taking my half-eaten cereal to the sink. I dump the milk and scrape the soggy remnants of my breakfast into the trash.

As I pass behind my grandmother's chair on my way back through the dining room, I swear I hear her murmur, "Me too."

I pause on my way through the front hall to the living room. I turn with uncertainty toward the front door, trying to decide whether to go outside and stake out Danni's house or to just wait for her to come here. The latter finally wins. She needs her sleep, and the more sleep she gets the easier she'll be able to fight the impending sickness we were both exposed to yesterday in the rain. Plus, if I go outside, I'll get soaked _again_, and I really don't enjoy the feeling.

With a sigh I plop down onto the sofa and reach for the remote control to the television, marveling once again as I do so how a simple press of a button makes a picture pop up on the screen across the room. Another press of a different button makes the picture change to a different channel, a different show with a different story. _Kind of like my life, in a weird way. I accidentally Apparated to the house of a woman I'd never met before – the press of a button if you will – and quite suddenly _my_ story was changed, even if I didn't realize it at first._

Okay, so the analogy isn't quite exact – it sounds really stupid actually - but it's as close as I can get, confused as I am at the moment. I sigh and shift so I'm lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, and the television offers me nothing but background noise. I don't care. That's all it ever is anyway. It helps keep me from going insane from the unbearable quiet in the house when I'm alone.

I should have asked Roberta to let me work today. I don't care that it's Saturday and she doesn't think I should work on Saturdays because I'm "a kid and kids need weekends to do things kids do". I don't really understand what that means – and I certainly _do not _feel like a kid at the moment, but whatever.

Lying there on my back, I'm in a perfect position to see the clock that hangs on the wall above the doorway that leads to the front hallway. I stare at the hands that tell me it is just after nine o'clock a.m., willing them to move faster, wanting the day to be over so I can go back to bed.

I wish I had it in me to sleep till noon, effectively cutting my day in half. But I've always been an early riser. Or maybe that was simply drilled into me by seven years of school at Hogwarts, having to be dressed and have breakfast consumed by eight thirty to get to class on time. Only rarely do I ever sleep past nine – and that's usually only in the summer. At school I always awoke around a quarter to seven, usually before any of my dorm mates.

Briefly I remember the morning of the final Quidditch match at Hogwarts and how I had uncharacteristically slept in that morning, only to have Aria standing at the bottom of the stairs screaming at me. That was almost certainly the result of being worked so hard in the weeks previously – both by Aria as the ever-ruthless Captain and by teachers preparing us for N.E.W.T.s. And the next morning I had slept in as well, due to exhaustion from the Quidditch match and then chasing Aria all round my dormitory.

As I lie here contemplating my sleeping habits, I start wondering _why_ I'm contemplating my sleeping habits. What on earth does _that_ have to do with anything? It comes to me that this is my mind's own form of denial, or perhaps simply a defense mechanism. Keep thinking about useless, trivial things, and you won't have to focus on huge, life-changing thoughts that may actually drive you crazy. Good idea in practice – sounds kind of stupid and cowardly when I actually think it out though.

So I do what my brain was unwilling to try. My thoughts turn toward Danni again. Again a huge wave of panic rolls over me. _I'm going to be a father._ I try to calm myself, but it doesn't do much good. I can't seem to have it both ways. I can't stay calm while thinking about my future and the baby that now involves.

Rather reluctantly, I choose to decline to turn away from the panicky feeling threatening to completely envelope me. I concentrate on breathing as normally as possible. Then I focus on Danni again. How long until school starts for her? A few days at most. I wouldn't be surprised if she started next Monday. I try to work out in my head how many months until she would start showing. I don't honestly know much about pregnancy. Other than vague memories of when Keira was pregnant with Henry and even vaguer memories of when she was pregnant with Abby, I don't really know _anything._

I'm still trying to remember how many months after Keira announced to the family that she was going to have a baby it was that her pregnancy started to show when the front door opens quietly, and I crane my neck to see whether the sound was of someone coming or going. A few seconds later Danni appears in the doorway with my grandmother right behind her.

Danni smiles rather nervously as she comes to stand at the end of the sofa. I glance around her hesitantly.

"I'll be in my room," Grandma says, her way of a stern warning to keep our hands off each other. I nod at her, and she disappears down the hall. Danni breathes a tiny sigh of relief when we hear the door close, and I realize that part of my grandmother – however small – still trusts me enough that she isn't leaving her door open to listen to our conversation.

It takes me a few seconds to realize that Danni is still standing uncertainly at the end of the sofa, watching my face slightly apprehensively. Feeling stupid, I sit up and swing my legs to the floor again, and she casts me a small smile before coming round and sitting down next to me. Rather instinctively I reach out and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

She gives me a surprised look, but it's a pleased sort of surprise, and she leans into my side with a smile on her face. I smile to myself, even though I'm not exactly sure _why_ I'm smiling.

We sit in contented silence for a few minutes before she sighs and pulls away from me again, looking up at me with uncertainty in her expression again.

"What is it?" I ask as she slips away from me and curls up on the far end of the sofa like she did yesterday. She gazes at me for a few seconds before sighing – loudly this time – and turning her head to the side, resting her cheek atop her drawn-up knees.

"You're being so nice to me," she mutters bitterly, and I nearly laugh.

"I'm always nice to you," I remind her, and she turns to look at me with an exasperated expression on her face.

"Exactly!" she exclaims. "Why are you being so nice to me when all I've done is make your life utter _hell?_" she demands, and I look at her in confusion.

"I wouldn't say you make my life hell…" I say hesitantly, waiting for her to interrupt, or blow up at me, or rage and scream and stomp away, even though part of me knows she won't – she isn't the raging and screaming type.

"Jake, I ruined your life," she says softly, staring at me with unbelievable sadness in her eyes.

"No you didn't," I object, but before I can continue she starts up again.

"Yes, Jake, I _did._ Maybe you can't see it _now_, because it hasn't sunk in yet, but this isn't a puppy or a parakeet we're taking on here. Jake, I'm going to have a _baby_. _Your_ baby. And as calm and cool as you think you are about this, Jake, you're just as terrified as I am, maybe _more_ so because I've had almost a week to think about this, but you haven't even had twenty-four hours yet. I don't know what you think this is going to be like, but it isn't going to be _easy_," she says earnestly. When she pauses for a breath I jump in.

"I know it won't be easy, Danni," I insist. "That's why there's two of us. I know this is going to change our lives, and I realize it's going to be the hardest thing either of us has ever done," I tell her, and before I can continue she's talking again.

"Jake, I don't think you're ready for this," she whispers. "I know _I'm_ not, but I don't really have a choice. I'm already dedicated to this. I already love whatever tiny life is growing inside of me, and I couldn't give it up even if that's what you thought was best."

"I'd never ask you to do that," I murmur, but she just keeps going.

"Jake," she says firmly, and I look at her, not realizing I had been looking away for the last minute or so. "Jake, you're not ready to be a father," she whispers.

"Isn't that what the next eight or so months are for?" I ask with a weak attempt at humor. She just sighs. "Okay, look. I know I'm not ready to be a father. _You're_ not ready to be a mother, either, Danni, despite what you may think. That's why we're here for each other, remember? To help one another make it through. If you can dedicate yourself to our baby, then so can I," I say stubbornly, and for a brief instant there's a smile on her face at my attempted chivalry.

But the smile fades quickly and she sighs again. I'm about to ask what _now_, but she starts talking without needing any prompting. "Jake, listen to me. Listen all the way through before saying anything okay? I've thought this out completely, and I want you to listen to all of what I have to say before deciding anything," she starts, which instantly makes me nervous. People shouldn't start speeches with opening lines like those. It often leads to very hard decisions.

"Jake, I love you," she starts again, giving me a glare when I open my mouth to tell her that I know this already. I shut it again instantly. "I love you, but I know how much you care about … Aria," she says, choking slightly on the name that I've rarely found the need to speak in her presence. I don't try to interrupt again, even as I wonder where she's going with this.

"You love her," she states bluntly. I just stare at her. When she doesn't continue, I nod very slowly, still not speaking, and for the tiniest fraction of a second something akin to hurt ripples across her expression before being replaced by an all-business, no-nonsense face again.

"That's why … Jake, go home, okay? Go back to Aria, go home to your real family. You don't belong here. Who have you been trying to kid, playing pretend with Mrs. Parks? She's your grandmother by blood, but you never knew her. You didn't grow up with her hugs and her cookies. You never came running to her with a scraped up knee that needed bandaging. You never played games with her while your parents were too busy to take care of you and needed a babysitter. Jake, if she's anyone's grandmother she's _mine_. I've known her for years and years. You've known her barely two months. _Go home_," she says forcefully, avoiding my gaze now. I stare at her.

"You're serious?" I ask in utter disbelief.

"Go back to Aria," she says softly, still staring determinedly at the wall across from us. She can't honestly mean that. She can't honestly be selfless enough to let me go right when she needs me most.

_She's not,_ I realize very suddenly. I don't know what she means by this, but she certainly doesn't _want_ me to go. I can see it in her face – the pain in her expression and the tears in her eyes that she's trying to hide from me.

"Why are you trying to be so righteous and selfless?" I ask softly, and she finally turns to look at me – albeit rather indignantly.

"Excuse me?" she asks.

"You don't want me to leave," I tell her, and she gives me another incredulous look.

"Jake, you can't stay here! You don't love me, and I'm not going to have you sticking around just because of _me_. You have a life to live! You should _just go home_," she says firmly around the tears in her eyes and the obvious lump forming in her throat.

"No."

"What do you _mean, _no?" she asks, her voice bordering on hysterical. I move closer with the intention to try to calm her down, but she just presses herself further against the armrest of the sofa, drawing back from me.

"I'm not going to leave you all alone with a child to raise by yourself, Danni. I don't care what you think. _I'm staying_. For you, for this baby, maybe even for myself. How could I live with myself knowing I left you with a baby to raise by yourself? Aria isn't important – _you_ and this _baby_ are important now. You're right – I'm scared. I'm terrified out of my mind at the thought of becoming a father, but _that doesn't matter_. Don't you understand that?" I ask her, moving toward her again. She doesn't pull away when I wrap my arms around her, only stiffens slightly, which is no different than how she usually reacts. It occurs to me that she's not used to being hugged, and with that in mind I only tighten my arms around her.

After a few seconds she relaxes, hugs me briefly, and pulls back, looking up into my face with a sad sort of expression on her face, one that's nevertheless interlaced with happiness. "You're sure?" she asks, searching my face for answers. I smile at her, pulling her close again.

"Danni, I've never been more sure of anything in my life," I whisper, knowing it's not completely truthful as soon as the words leave my mouth. The only thing I'm truly sure of is that I _can't_ leave her – to hell with whatever else I'm feeling. _My_ feelings don't matter. She matters. Her baby – my baby – matters. Nothing else matters. Not now.

"You'll regret it someday," she sighs, but she doesn't pull back, and I let myself laugh at her suggestion.

"Never," I promise, knowing it's not a promise I can truly keep, not being able to predict the future, but it gets the desired effect. She leans against me, her arms slipping around my waist and hugging me close, finally relaxing. I can't see her face, but I know there's a smile on it. I feel like a complete jerk, making her promises I can't keep, telling her half-truths and not-truths, but even as I realize this, I can't help but feel that it doesn't matter, so long as she's happy. That's what I want for her, that's all I've ever wanted for her from the first time I saw her anything but perfectly content. I want her to be happy.

.x.

She holds on to me for nearly twenty minutes – I know, because the clock is still clearly visible from my position – before her breathing slows and her weight against me is heavier. I smile at that and lay her back on the couch before standing up and going into the kitchen to search for a piece of paper and something to write with.

I find what I'm searching for in a junk drawer off in the corner and quickly scrawl a note:

_Danni, Grandma-_

_Had to run an errand. Okay, that's a lie. I had to go talk to Ron. But I'll be back as soon as possible. Don't worry, don't wait around. See you soon._

_Love, Jake_

And after placing the note in the center of the table where it will be clearly visible to anyone walking through the room, I once again envision my childhood home – on purpose this time – close my eyes, spin on my heel, and Disapparate.

x.x

Danni

I wake up as soon as I feel Jake let go of me, but it takes me a few seconds to reorient myself when I find I'm lying down. I can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen, but I don't move to see what he's up to. He'll be back.

I can't believe he isn't going to leave. He's not going back to his precious Aria, who I'm sure he spends most – if not all – of his time thinking about. Sometimes he just gets this faraway look on his face, and I try not to imagine him comparing _me_ to _her_, knowing she's probably three times what I could ever be to him. I don't even know her, and I hate her for it.

The mere thought of Aria is enough to make me angry, but I've gotten better at suppressing that particular reaction to her. I can't imagine what would happen if we ever _met_. I shudder and refuse to think about it any longer. I'm about to sit up and ask Jake exactly _what_ he's doing in the kitchen – I can hear a loud, hurried scratching sound now – when all the noise suddenly stops. Then there's a loud, ear-splitting _crack_ and nothing else.

"Jake?" I call, worried now. I sit up. No reply. "Jake?"

I get up and head into the kitchen a bit hesitantly, half expecting to see him lying in the middle of the floor unconscious, but the dining room and kitchen are empty.

"Jake, this isn't funny," I say, wondering if he's hiding somewhere ready to jump out and "scare" me. But I don't hear anything that could be his suppressed snickers coming from anywhere.

"Jake?" I ask again. I peer around the counter in case he's somehow hidden down there, but again nothing but emptiness greets me. What's going on here? I give the area a once-over and finally notice a sheet of paper in the center of the usually-bare table.

I rush over to it and pick up the hastily scrawled note. I read it through twice before sighing. _Had to go talk to Ron. _Of course. Who else would he want to talk to but his surrogate father about ruining his entire life? I only wonder briefly how he's planning to get there before remembering that he's a _wizard_ and he can probably get there some freaky, magical way.

Rolling my eyes I go back to the sofa and lie down again, figuring I might as well get some rest while Jake's off confessing his sins left and right. Just as I'm about to drift off to sleep again, my eyes snap open. Ron is _Aria's_ father. I sit up instantly, regretting it as soon as my vision blurs from the sudden movement. Anger bubbles up inside of me, and I strain to push it back down. Just because Ron _happens_ to be Aria's father doesn't mean anything. Most likely, Jake just wants to talk to _Ron_, like he said. Aria probably doesn't even live there anymore! She's the same age as he is, isn't she? Shouldn't she have moved out by now?

Satisfied for now with my own explanation, knowing I won't get anything but a headache until Jake gets back if I keep thinking about it, I lie down once more and try my hardest to sleep. I didn't get much last night, tossing and turning, worrying over the decision I'd made to let Jake go. I can only hope that when he realizes how hard this really is going to be, he'll remember that he _chose_ to stay, and I most certainly wouldn't hold him here against his will, using guilt, black-mail, or otherwise.

x.x

Jake

This time, I deliberately Apparate directly to the front door. I peer in through the glass before anything else, having no true desire to cross Aria's path today, despite how much I miss her. I couldn't bear having to break her heart all over again, this time in a much more permanent sense.

The reality of what I'm doing here crashes down on me as I think about that. What if I never see Aria again? No, that's impossible. Of course I'll see her again someday – I _promised_ I'd come back. _And I will_, I vow, as I push the front door open silently and creep into the empty kitchen. I'll come back to visit someday. How soon that someday is isn't clear yet – especially after she finds out about Danni – but when we've both had time to heal, I'll come back, most likely finding her happily married…

My heart clenches painfully at the thought of Aria marrying…_anyone but me, right?_ I think with a sardonic, twisted sort of smile. But I can't have it both ways, and as I realize this I feel part of my heart – _Aria's_ part of my heart – break off. I come to a complete standstill as breathtaking pain seeps through my chest, and for almost an entire minute I stand there, hardly able to breathe.

After a few more seconds of unbelievable agony, I forced myself to move, knowing that she could appear at any moment and ruin my entire agenda. I wanted to get in, talk to Ron, and get out again as fast as possible. The less time I spend frozen in the kitchen the better.

I make my way silently across the empty room and turn right down the short hallway that leads to Ron's messy study. The door is open and I can hear the sound of his quill scratching at the parchment of whatever report he's working on. It suddenly strikes me as odd that he's still working from home – Abby would have gone back to school by now. Then again, if Aria's still living here… Of course. That makes sense, I think somewhat bitterly. His little princess is still at home. Forget that all those years when she _was_ in school he still had Abby and Henry at home – _Aria_ is home, so he has to be too.

I shake those thoughts away. They're stupid, childish, jealous thoughts that I should have let go of a long time ago. But I didn't. I've held onto them, bottled them up. With a soft sigh I start toward the open door again.

As far as I'm concerned I'm moving nearly silently, but when Ron's voice calls out the door I wonder if my hearing is impaired or something.

"Aria? Is that you?" he asks, and the sound of his quill ceases. I push down the sudden resentment that this lack of noise brings about in me. He's always been so willing to throw down everything for her. _Stop it,_ I scold myself. _This isn't what you came for!_

"No, Ron," I manage after a few more seconds of silence.

I hear his chair scrape back and soon his head appears around the doorframe, his expression slightly angry, incredulous, surprised, maybe even a little pleased. But the thing I notice most in his expression … is _fear_.

"Jake, what are you doing here?" he hisses, his eyes searching beyond me for some sign of life in the kitchen. I move quickly to his side and slip past him into the small office. He closes the door behind me.

"I need to talk to you," I say when he turns to me, still looking fearful. From his expression, I take it Aria's home. I feel my stomach clench in anticipation at that thought, and I hate myself for the tiny feeling of hope budding up. I squash that instantly. I'm _not_ going to see her. I'm not going to talk to her.

I'm simply going to disappear again. There's no need to make the separation even more painful by giving her a last memory of seeing me fleeing from her house after breaking her heart _again_. It takes me a moment to realize I just thought of this place as _her_ _house_, where I once used to think of it as _our home_. The pain already coursing through me deepens, and it must show in my expression.

"What is it?" Ron asks, his anger and fear disappearing, replaced almost instantly by concern. I try to straighten out my face before answering.

"There's something I think you need to know," I manage, and my voice sounds strangled. His concerned expression changes to worry.

"Go ahead," he says, perching on the edge of his desk. I sink onto the worn old settee that he had moved in here after Keira tried to throw it away when she redecorated the living room a few years back. It's not as comfortable as the newer one in the living room, and I sink down into the cushions further than I think one is supposed to.

I heave a sigh and look up at him. "Remember when I told you about Danni?" I start, and he looks thoughtful for a few seconds before answering.

"The girl that thinks she's in love with you?" he asks at last, a slightly amused smile playing across his expression now. I frown at him and he wipes the look off his face.

"Yes, her," I sigh.

"Sure I remember. Is she okay?" asks Ron, cocking his head to one side and staring at me curiously, obviously trying to decipher my mood and purpose for being here.

"Define 'okay'," I mutter. Then I shake my head. "She's fine. I guess," I say with a shrug. "Or as okay as she can be, considering…" I can't finish. In the last twenty-four hours I've repeated the words over and over in my head. _I'm going to be a father_. And yet now, I can't say them aloud to the one person whose judgment could mean losing everything – every_one_ – I've ever loved.

_You _already_ lost everyone, stupid,_ I think angrily. _You lost them the day you left!_ Everyone except Ron. Ron, who is still waiting expectantly, concern and worry winning out over impatience. Ron, who opened himself to me completely that day in the woods, confessing how much he wishes I was truly his son. Ron, who's going to _hate _me when I tell him the impossibility of ever making his daughter happy again. That's what I'm scared of, I realize. I'm afraid of losing Ron's love. He's the closest thing to a father I've ever had, and now I'm going to lose him too. All because of one stupid, _stupid_ morning that I let Danni's feelings for me get out of hand.

_You could have it all back_, that annoying, Sean-like voice in my head whispers. _She said you could leave. You could come home, be with Aria, make her happy, make Ron proud of you… _The last one makes the pain so intense that I feel tears pricking the back of my eyes. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted to make Ron proud. I hadn't realized how much I wanted to prove to him that it was worth it to take me in all those years ago.

I can't though. I can't leave Danni. She's going to have _my_ baby! I'll never be the kind of father that isn't there. I'll never do to my child what my father – what my _mother_ – did to me. I'm not going to leave that baby. It doesn't matter to the child _now_ that it doesn't have a father – it won't matter for a number of years. But I couldn't do that. I know what not knowing her father did to Aria, who didn't even have a father _figure_ like I did. I know how desperate she was to know _anything_ about him. Do I want to doom my _own _child to such a life?

_But you _love _Aria, _the voice whispers. Only now the ideas aren't appealing – they're taunting and cruel, making me think about what I can never have now. I know I love Aria – I love her so much that it hurts. But I _can't _leave that child. And I know I can't have it both ways. I could _try_. Oh, certainly. I could _try_ to be a good father while being with Aria.

Danni wouldn't like it. She doesn't think I know how much she detests Aria. I know it's just jealousy and insecurity, but she would still hate the idea of me being a father to her child if I was with anyone but _her_. It might sound selfish, but I can't deny the sensibility of it. Our baby needs _two_ parents – not two plus Aria. Aria would want nothing to do with the child. I know her well enough to know it would hurt her to even _look_ at it. Knowing that while I was away I let myself feel something for another girl. Knowing that even though we've never dated and were never openly anything but friends, that in a way I'd cheated on her. She'd want nothing to do with the child that I'm starting to love so much.

_Starting to love_. _Starting_ to love? No. I've loved that baby from the second I was able to think straight enough to acknowledge its existence. And while I still love Aria – I probably always _will_ love Aria – I love that baby … if not more, then exactly as much. And maybe someday I'll be able to love Danni too. It hurts to think about loving someone other than Aria – other than the baby. I can only hope that in time that hurt will dull, if not completely disappear, which I know it never will … disappear I mean.

"Jake?" Ron's voice brings me back. I look up at him, feeling suddenly spent from all the emotional turmoil. His worry only deepens at whatever he reads in my face. "Jake, what's wrong?"

I take a deep breath. Was it this hard for Danni? What sort of things ran through her mind right before she told me? It wasn't this hard to tell my grandmother. Maybe because I'd already resigned myself to her reaction. I have no idea what Ron's reaction will be. He always does something I'm not expecting. His fury in the woods that day turned into a heart-to-heart unlike anything I'd ever heard from him. I'd only once witnessed him cry before that day – at Hermione's memorial service.

As I let my breath escape in a shaky stream of air, I close my eyes against his face. The irony is not lost on me as I sit there, unable to look at him, but I don't think about that. I swallow, take another deep breath, and just spit it out.

"I'm going to be a father."

x.x

Ron

At first I think he's joking. I even crack a smile. But when, after a few seconds, he doesn't open his eyes, doesn't laugh and grin and tell me "gotcha!", the weight of the situation presses down on me, and my smile fades. Jake? A _father? _Who…? _Her_. Danni, is that her name?

I think back to that day in the woods when he started telling me about her, and how we never actually got around to talking about what had him so worked up before we were suddenly confessing our suppressed feelings left and right. He'd been trying to tell me something. Something important. Was that what it was? Had it taken him three weeks to work up the courage to come back here again?

"How long have you known?" I ask at last, noticing that he's watching me apprehensively now, waiting for my response.

"I found out yesterday," he says quietly, looking down again. Oh. Then what _was_ he trying to tell me that day? I mull this over for a few seconds. He'd sounded devastated when he'd confessed that this Danni girl said she loved him. I try to find a delicate way to ask the question I want the answer to. Had he been trying to tell me that he and Danni had…? I don't want to think about it anymore.

"Ron?" he asks, and there's fear in his voice. I look up to find him watching me, the apprehension in his eyes evident. He's waiting for me to get mad, and that confuses me for almost an entire minute before my heart sinks as I realize _why_ he's waiting for me to get mad.

"You're not coming back, are you?" I whisper, my voice strained. He shakes his head slowly back and forth and I feel as though he's tearing a great hole in my chest. I'm so caught up in the pain of actually losing him for real this time that it takes me awhile to think outside my own hurt.

"What about Aria?" I demand, and his face contorts into more pain than I'd bargained for. He turns his head away from me, clenching his jaw, unblinking, and I know that he's trying not to cry. I wait patiently while he gains control of himself. When he looks back at me, his eyes are red-rimmed and wet. I feel so terrible for asking him such a question.

"Aria …" he doesn't continue, his voice choked up, and he looks away again. It takes him longer to compose himself this time, and when he finally brings his gaze back to mine there are tear tracks running down his face.

"I'm sorry, Ron," he whispers, tears spilling down his cheeks. He looks angry with himself as he wipes them away.

I can't muster up even enough anger to frown at him. I can see how much this is killing him, having to tell me this. I can see how much it hurts for him to have to come here and tell me he _can't_ be with my daughter, who loves him more than anyone in the entire world. More than _me_. That thought hurts, that she loves him more than she loves me, but I can't deny the truth of it. She was his friend long before I was her father. It only makes sense that she loves him more.

"Are you going to marry her?" I ask, not quite managing detached curiosity, my voicing coming out strained again.

"Danni? We haven't talked about it," he mutters. I refrain from saying it looks like they don't talk much at all if they had nothing better to do than-

"I don't know, Ron," he sighs, putting his head in his hands. "It keeps hitting me harder and harder." I'm not sure what he's talking about, but I just nod, realizing a few seconds too late that he's not even looking at me.

"Every time I think I've gotten used to the idea, something else happens and it hits me all over again, harder than before," he explains, his voice tight with anguish unlike anything from that day in by the swimming hole. "What if I suck at this?" he asks, raising his head, looking fearful again. I wonder if it's the first time he's asked himself this question, because quite suddenly he looks terrified.

"What if I'm a horrible father, Ron? What if my kid turns out all messed up because of me? What if… what if…?" he trails off, shaking his head, unable to speak. I've never seen him so afraid.

"Jake," I say, and he looks back up at me instantly. "I think you'll be a great dad," I tell him honestly. He looks at me with a twisted expression, torn between the desire to believe me and the belief already there that I'm wrong.

"You do?" he asks at last.

"Of course I do! You're great with kids. And … I can see how hard this decision is for you, Jake," I say softly, hating how I can make that anguish wash over his face so suddenly.

"I don't want to hurt her," he whispers, tears brimming his eyes once again. "I don't want to have to leave her, not … _permanently_," he chokes out, and I hate how horrible this is for him, for Aria.

Oh, poor Aria. She'll be devastated. I toy with the idea of never telling her, of letting Jake's absence stretch and stretch until she realizes of her own accord that he's not coming back. That would be a cruel thing to do, but it might save her the heartbreak. It might let her move on instead of pining for him the way she's been doing. She might be happy again. She might marry someone else. I feel my heart clench, and I realize I don't _want_ her to marry someone else. I want her to marry Jake.

"How am I going to tell her?" I whisper.

"You won't have to," a voice says from the doorway.

* * *

**A/N**: Alright, before you get all worked up and start screaming at me for leaving you with a cliffie, go read chapter eighteen! See? I posted two at the same time! Can't be mad now can you? Originally these two chapters were one – and it was thirty pages long. So I split it in half for your convenience. Yay, right? Okay, go review or go read chapter eighteen (do both!). Thanks!


	18. A More Permanent Kind of Good Bye

**A/N**: Alright, here's chapter eighteen! Nothing to say except it starts about twenty minutes before Jake arrives at the Weasley house. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: A More Permanent Kind of Good-bye**

Aria – _Earlier the same morning_

When I wake up, I stretch and lie there for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth of my bed, content in the knowledge that this time last year I was at Hogwarts, already completely immersed in my seventh year of school. I find a strange, vindictive sort of pleasure in the fact that Abby is at school and I'm not. With a smile I roll out of bed and head for the bathroom.

I take my time in the shower, letting the warm water wash away all my problems, loving the clean feeling left behind by soap and shampoo. I stand still for a few minutes, just letting the warmth creep into every pore of my body, smiling slightly. Then, knowing Keira doesn't like me to waste water, I turn off the showerhead and step out, toweling myself dry and setting about to get ready for the day.

I dress in the same kind of clothes I wear every day – Muggle shorts and a t-shirt. It's raining outside, but I doubt it's very cold considering the heat of early September lingering from August. I manage to rake a comb through the tangled mess I like to call my hair. Glancing in the mirror, I frown at how boring my face looks, but there's no need for makeup when I'm not planning on doing anything today except sitting on Sean and Kay's royal settee and reading all day.

Heading downstairs for breakfast, the house feels weirdly quiet. It could just be that I'm not used to being home when Abby isn't here, her cheerfulness always filling the place up. But when I get to the kitchen, I'm surprised to see it empty. I go to the table to find a note lying there, penned in Keira's neat handwriting.

_Aria –_

_Took Henry to see Sean – he invited us to come watch a training session. Didn't want to wake you. There's plenty in the cupboard for breakfast. Ron's working in his study if you need him. We'll be back a little after one. You're on your own for lunch – I promised Henry we'd go out to eat. Sorry. Love you, have a nice morning._

_-Keira._

With a shrug I ball up the scrap of parchment and launch it toward the rubbish bin. It sails right in. It's been an entire summer, but my Quidditch skills are still superb. For a few seconds I feel a stab of jealousy toward Henry. I'd like to go to a professional Quidditch training session! I bet Sean would even let me have a go with his teammates. But I let it go after realizing how childish I'm being. I can go see Sean any time I want – I could Apparate over there right now if I wanted to. Henry can't Apparate, and I know he misses his older brother, despite the fact that Sean sometimes finds him the most annoying pest on earth. Plus, it's raining, and however much I might love the rain, I don't feel like being soaked clean through again right after getting dressed.

I'm about to go dig through the cupboard for something to eat when I hear noises – _voices_ – coming from Dad's study. Cocking my head in that direction I try to discern who could be in there this early. It's a guy. Not Drew, surely. He's taking his brother's kids to the beach today. It could be Harry if it was still summertime, but Harry's a teacher at Hogwarts. He wouldn't pay a visit in the middle of classes.

I try to rack my brain, mentally going through all my uncles, who should all be at work or in some faraway country at the moment. The voice is too young-sounding to be my grandfather – either one of them, not that Mum's father would come visit anyway, seeing how he absolutely loathes Dad. I stand there, completely stumped for a few minutes. Then there's silence. Worried now, I edge toward the study. The door is closed. That's weird.

Dad _never_ closes his study door unless someone from work drops by. But who would be here to visit at this time? It's too early for anyone to be on lunch break, and I can't imagine anything important enough to warrant disrupting someone's work schedule at the Ministry to send a messenger.

I creep forward, being especially careful to avoid squeaky floorboards and the one area of the floor with a hollow underneath it that makes footsteps louder than normal. I'm sure Dad dug that hollow himself so he could hear anyone coming toward his office while he worked. I step over it carefully and basically slide the rest of the way down the hall in my socks, which I'm not sure why I'm wearing, considering how warm it is in the house, but I'm suddenly glad I put them on.

At the door, I don't press my ear to it. The door gives away any noise if you so much as lay a finger against it. I think Dad probably had it built that way on purpose, or else it's enchanted. I hear Dad's voice asking a question, but I can't understand it; his voice is too soft. Sudden inspiration strikes and I cast a silent incantation. _Accio, Extendable Ear_. Uncle George sent me a whole boxful of joke shop crap for Christmas last year, and it's remained untouched for months. Who knew I'd ever find a use for it after all?

The fleshy string floats lazily into view down the stairs, and I roll my eyes at how slowly it drifts toward me, but I try to be patient, still straining to hear the conversation on the other side of the door as I wait. But there's silence in the other room again. When the stupid enchanted ear finally gets to me, I stick one end in my ear and let the other end wriggle under the doorjamb.

I catch the end of a sentence spoken in an all too familiar voice that sends a thrill all the way to my very core. It takes me a few seconds to process the sentence he spoke.

"…be a father."

What about being a father? Every muscle in my body screams at me to wrench open that door and throw myself at the person that voice belongs to. I _know_ that voice. I haven't heard it spoken for two and a half months, and my memories and dreams have not done it justice. My hand is nearly on the doorknob before I snatch it back, because the conversation is continuing.

"How long have you known?" Dad.

"I found out yesterday." _Him!_ Jake! I reach for the doorknob again, not even thinking about what their talking about, but _his_ voice stops me once more.

"Ron?" He sounds scared. Terrified actually. I pause, my hand extended in midair, poised to throw the door wide open. But I wait. There's silence for a few moments before I hear a soft sigh.

"You're not coming back are you?" asks Dad. Fear pumps through me instantly at his words. What does that mean? Not coming back? Why wouldn't he be coming back? It takes all of my willpower to keep from barging in there and demanding to know what's going on right now.

"What about Aria?"

There's a pause.

"Aria…" His voice is pained, and I feel my stomach knot up at my name. The urge to go to him is more intense than ever, but I resist. More silence.

And then, "I'm sorry Ron."

I feel terror, pain, and tears all overwhelm me, and I clutch the wall beside me. What is going on here?! I clench my teeth to try to keep upright. It won't do to go fainting all over the hallway now.

"Are you going to marry her?" asks Dad. Marry who? Me? I entertain the thought for a few seconds before Jake answers.

"Danni? We haven't talked about it." _Danni?!_ Who's SHE? And why would Jake _marry_ her? I go over the conversation in my head again, and the answer is just coming to me when his voice cuts off all trains of thought.

"I don't know Ron," he sighs, a small groan escaping him. I can almost imagine him burying his face in his hands as he says it, and the ache to be close to him multiplies tenfold. I grit my teeth and clutch the wall harder, digging my fingernails into it - as though I could make a mark in it.

"Every time I think I've gotten used to the idea, something else happens and it hits me all over again, harder than before," he continues, and my confusion grows.

"What if I suck at this?" he asks. _Suck at WHAT?! _I want to scream. But he continues after pausing for only a few seconds. "What if I'm a horrible father, Ron? What if my kid turns out all messed up because of me? What if… what if…?"

_What if I'm a horrible father?_ The question slams into me like a particularly vicious bludger, and I struggle to breathe. _Jake's _going to be a _father_?!

"Jake." That's all Dad says. Just his name. It must be to get his attention. He does that all the time to me. He continues, "I think you'll be a great dad." Betrayal washes over me. Traitor. He's saying exactly the kind of words Jake needs … to be able to _leave!_

"You do?" When he speaks again, he sounds like a little kid asking his dad's opinion, surprised at the answer. I find myself shaking, though whether from fear, sadness, or anger, I'm not sure.

"Of course I do!" Dad exclaims, continuing with his traitorous speech. "You're great with kids. And … I can see how hard this decision is for you, Jake." Huh. Doesn't _sound_ very hard, I think angrily.

"I don't to hurt her," Jake says softly. Who? _Danni?_ What kind of stupid name is that? A _boy's _name. An ugly, stupid boy's name. "I don't want to leave her, not … _permanently_."

I realize with a jolt that he's talking about _me_. What does he care if he hurts me? Fury rears up inside of me instantly at the sadness in his voice. He left me once, didn't he? Didn't seem to bother him _then_.

I can't do it anymore. I can't stand out here listening to this for one more second. So when Dad whispers, "How am I going to tell her?" I shove the door open angrily.

"You won't have to," I say coldly.

Jake's head whips around as he jumps up from the ratty settee that Dad wouldn't let Keira throw out. In one movement he's standing as far away from me as he can get while on the same side of Dad's desk as me. He stares at me, wide-eyed, regret evident in his tortured expression.

It's a lot harder to look at him and be angry at the same time than I thought it would be. I feel my fury dissolve almost instantly. The desire to soothe that pain in his expression is so strong that my foot takes an involuntary step toward him. He stiffens, and I freeze, finally gaining control of my legs again.

"Aria…" Dad says, his voice carrying a warning and concern at the same time. Funny how he can do that. I glance at him, and that gives my anger the chance to ignite again. But it's not as strong. Because the reality of what's happening is crashing down on me. I feel the pain like a giant, gaping hole in my heart and I feel my expression crumple.

_Please don't say anything, _I pray, hoping to every god I can think of that Jake won't try to talk to me. Apparently no one's listening up there.

"Aria," he whispers, the pain in his voice making my heart twist in agony. I turn to look at him. He's looking at me and I'm shocked at the tears in his eyes. I don't think I've ever seen Jake cry, other than that one lone tear I saw the night before he left.

The hurt I see there makes me remember something I haven't thought about for awhile. I think back to our first day home from Hogwarts at the beginning of the summer, when Jake and I were coming back downstairs after taking our school trunks to our rooms.

"_I know you'd never hurt me," _I whisper, and by is expression I know he remembers too. But the sudden hurt in me is so powerful that I have to sit down. I practically fall into the settee, and I curl into myself there, trying to protect myself from the pain, but it's not working. I let the tears flow, but I refuse to let a single sob out of my throat. I won't let him hear that terrible sound, no matter how much he might deserve it. No matter how much he deserves to feel the kind of pain I've been in the last three months while he was off _shagging_ some _slut._

Despite my best efforts, one of those sobs does escape as I think this, and it's a terrible noise that makes me cringe. A second later the same arms I've longed for for more than two months are around me, and as furious as I am with him, as heartbroken as I am for what he did, and terrified as I am of what's going to happen now, I lean into them, if only to have one more time to remember the feel of him, the smell of him, the very real solidity of his body.

His nearness doesn't help the crying any. It only makes it worse because as wonderful as it is to _finally_ be near him again, I know he'll be leaving soon. And this time he's not coming back. Another sob rips from my throat and his arms tighten, rocking me gently, stroking my still-damp hair, murmuring 'shh' in my ear, never once telling me that it'll be alright, because he knows it won't. Only shushing me gently, still rocking, still soothing, even as he's breaking my heart. Trust me, the irony isn't lost on me.

I hear a noise coming from the kitchen and I pull my head up from Jake's shoulder long enough to wonder what it is before Dad whisks out of the room. It takes all of two seconds before I'm sobbing again, this time the result of Jake pulling me closer again.

"Aria," he whispers, his voice wistful and heartbreakingly sad. I latch onto him, realizing this could be the last time I'll ever hold him. I glue myself to his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck and locking them there, sobbing, desperately afraid of losing him again. His arms are tight around me as well, hugging me, holding me, trying his hardest to soothe me, but not succeeding.

"Jake," I sob back, feeling my heart break. "Jake, please don't go."

x.x

Drew

I was lucky to get out of babysitting "The Twerps" today. My brother's kids drive me crazy, and thanks to the rain pounding down, our beach trip was cancelled. So I decided to visit Aria. I wait for someone to come to the door to let me in a bit anxiously, very aware of the wetness dripping down on my head.

Mr. Weasley opens the front door with an extremely wary expression. I offer him a smile, which he doesn't return. Did I do something wrong? Before I can ask, I hear a terrible noise coming from somewhere, a noise I had hoped I'd never hear again, but which I recognize instantly. I turn to look up at Mr. Weasley, and he sighs.

"This should be interesting," he mutters, turning around and walking away, heading down a hallway off to the right of the kitchen that I've never really paid attention to. I follow him, toward the sounds of Aria's sobbing. He disappears through a door to the left, shaking his head slightly.

I follow him through the door and freeze at the sight of someone I've only ever seen once – in a photograph nonetheless – but whom I recognize just as instantly as I did the sound of the sobbing coming from the girl in his arms. He stares at me, and I stare back, wide-eyed, wondering what on earth he's doing here and why Aria is sobbing so heart-wrenchingly with his arms around her.

Aria looks up when it appears that the guy – _Jake_ – isn't relaxing his suddenly stiff posture. Her sobs diminish slightly at the sight of me, and her eyes widen before her face crumples again and she turns back to Jake, burying her face in his neck like a child. His arms tighten even more around her – I hadn't thought that possible, but I guess it is.

"Jake," I say, my voice dead, a monotone. Simply acknowledging his presence, not actually speaking to him. His eyes darken slightly at my tone.

"Drew," he says – practically snarls it – and I'm surprised. How does he know my name? Did Aria tell him? Did Ron? How _else_ would he know? I'm not wearing my badge from work am I? I glance down to see with relief that I'm not. I did that once – wore my badge out in public by accident. It was excruciatingly embarrassing when I finally realized why everyone I ran into had known my name and smiled so understandably at me – they must have thought I had some mental problem or something.

"Jake," Aria's father says softly, and I can barely discern the warning underlying his tone, but Jake recognizes it and smoothes his expression at once.

"Nice to finally meet you," he says coldly. "I've heard so much about you," he adds, his voice laced with subtle sarcasm.

"Same here," I reply just as coolly, and his surprised expression gives me the fuel to keep going "Although, I'm sure what _you_ heard is a lot better than what _I've_ heard."

His expression contorts into pain and I smirk before I catch Mr. Weasley's incredulous and angry expression, and I wipe the look off my face quickly.

Aria's sobs have quieted considerably, and now she's just clinging to Jake, trembling, her face still buried in his collar. I feel jealousy spout up at how easily he holds her, how naturally he's rocking her, murmuring to her, yet never taking his cold eyes off of me except to glance down at her every few seconds, concern briefly taking control of his expression. I wish I could have been that natural with her when she turned to _me_ for comfort all those weeks ago.

Maybe it shows in my expression what I'm feeling, because he scowls at me for a few seconds. Then, abruptly, his expression softens. I wonder if Aria made some indiscernible movement that only he could feel. He stares at _me_ though, thoughtfully, evaluating me, and I feel slightly indignant at his probing gaze.

His face becomes sad, and as he hugs Aria, such is the pain and loss in his expression that it makes me realize something. _He's leaving again_. He can't leave! Doesn't he realize what leaving will _do_ to her? What it's _already_ done to her? Can't he see how much she needs him? Just look at her!

He dips his head, and it takes me a minute or so to realize that Aria is speaking to him, whispering, mumbling, but I catch the pain in her tone, and I feel the sudden urge to soothe that pain, to make it go away, to be to her what Jake is.

x.x

Jake

"Please don't go," she whispers again, not moving her face from my neck. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm sorry," I manage, and her body shakes with a silent sob. "You have no idea how sorry I am. I wish I could stay."

"Then stay," she insists, sliding her hands down my chest and around my back before latching on once more and holding me tight. I hug her close and another, not quite silent sob tears from her. I wonder if being this close to her is only making it worse, but for once I don't care. This could be the last time I'll ever get to wrap my arms around her and hold her like this. Even if she's sobbing her heart out, I'm not giving this up. Call me selfish, I don't care.

"I can't stay," I whisper sadly. She shakes her head back and forth.

"You can," she tells me miserably.

"No, Aria. I can't," I say, more firmly this time. "I'm sorry."

"I don't understand," she says, her voice containing a bitter edge as she pulls away and looks up at me. I let her slide out of my arms reluctantly. "What's so special about _her?_ What does she have that I don't?" she asks, her eyes searching my face for an answer.

"My baby," I whisper sadly, and her expression crumbles again, but she doesn't cry. She just looks at me, shaking her head, unbelievable sadness in her eyes.

"Why?" she asks. "_Why, Jake?"_ Her voice is thick, choked with unshed tears building up behind her eyes. "How could you?" she asks accusingly.

"I don't know," I whisper. "It was a terrible mistake, and I'm sorry. We … I know it's a horrible excuse, Aria, but we just got carried away…"

"That's what you call it?" she asks, her voice jumping up an octave. I wince at the raw pain and sudden anger in her face. "You can't just admit the truth?"

"What truth?" I ask softly as her voice continues to grow louder. _This is nothing more than I deserve,_ I remind myself as she gets angrier.

"That I'm obviously not good enough for you anymore!" she shouts, and I'm suddenly glad that there's nothing large and heavy nearby that she could throw at me without breaking her back, because she most obviously would if she could.

"That's not true," I tell her earnestly, needing her to understand. "Aria, I _lo_-"

"Don't!" she shrieks, jumping up, suddenly wild-eyed and terrified. "Please don't say it, Jake." She backs away from me until she reaches Drew's side, still staring at me with wide, scared eyes.

Drew's arm reaches out and snakes around her waist tentatively, and she lets it, not even acknowledging him. He seems to take that as encouragement, not realizing that Aria's forgotten he's even in the room, and draws her closer. When their hips touch, she seems to realize that he's there and jumps away in surprise. His expression sours and I experience a very brief second of smugness before I let go of it, wishing that she _hadn't_ pulled away from him, wishing she could at least feel _something_ for him so that it won't be so terrible when I leave again.

"Don't touch me," she spits at him, and he glances toward me with his own wide eyes, though his expression is one of surprise and bewilderment. I shrug at him, not understanding either.

"I don't want anyone else, Jake," she says, her anger intermixing with her terror and sadness, creating a very earnest, heartbreakingly sad expression. "I don't want anyone else's arms around me but yours," she says, coming back and sitting down beside me again. I don't touch her, afraid of her sudden mood swing, not sure which of the three emotions battling for ground will break through next.

She looks up at me and keeps talking. I force myself to maintain eye contact. "Jake, _please_," she begs, her voice breaking. "She could never love you as much as I do."

The shock of the words are like ice water and a red-hot poker at the same time. I stare at her in disbelief, trying really hard not to take what she said to heart, knowing I can't stay no matter how many times she declares her love for me. _She loves me?_

x.x

Aria

I didn't mean to say it, and yet part of me still wanted to. It was my last, desperate attempt at making him see that I _need_ him. And how could this other, meaningless girl who he barely knows _ever_ love him the way I do? The 'L' word was my trump card, and now that I've used it, I wish I could have it back, because the look on his face is not the shocked joy I wanted to see. It's shocked alright. But still sad. Sadder than ever.

"Aria, I _can't stay,_" he says through gritted teeth. I'm surprised to see tears in his eyes again. "I'm _sorry_."

Trump card trumped. I feel tears well up again, and he takes me in his arms once more. I lean against him and let myself cry and cry and cry. I'm really losing him this time. He's not coming back. He's leaving me for some girl with a boy's name and a baby that might not even exist…

"How do you know for sure?" I ask, stemming my tears enough to ask the question, which still comes out thickly.

"How do I know what for sure?" he murmurs, not loosening his grip enough to let me look up at him.

"How do you know for sure that this … _Danni_ is … is … _pregnant?_" I ask. "What if she only told you that so you'd have to stay with her?"

His reaction startles me. He moves away from me so fast that it takes me a few seconds to realize he's not there. He's standing against the wall again, glaring at me.

"How could you say that?" he demands angrily. Instead of feeling ashamed of my question I let my own fury at him rear up again.

"How do you know it's not true?" I ask.

"What kind of person would do that? What kind of person would _pretend_ to be carrying my baby so I would _stay_ with her?"

"I don't know," I say innocently. "Danni perhaps?"

"NO!" he shouts, and I flinch at the menace in his voice. "Aria that is the worst thing I have ever heard from you. Do you realize that she _gave_ me the choice? She was going to let me walk away! She was going to let me _abandon _her, did you know that?" he yells.

Hurt rolls over me when I realize that he _was_ given the choice, and he's _still_ choosing _her_. But then I realize something else. Jake has abandonment issues. His father abandoned him, which caused his mother to abandon him, and now I'm asking him to do the same thing to some unborn child and a girl I've never met, who is probably actually very, very scared right now.

"I'm not going to do that, Aria," he says, no longer shouting. He looks at me sadly again. "I _can't_ do that. What kind of man would I be if I just took off at the first sign of trouble? What kind of person would _leave_ some poor girl, terrified and pregnant just so he could be _happy?"_ he asks, practically spitting the last word with contempt. I pick up on the fact that he basically told me that Danni doesn't make him happy, but I don't comment on it, simply storing it away for my own uses later, when he's gone again.

"I would be just like my parents," he says softly. "I've never wanted to be anything but exactly _opposite_ of them. I'm not going to start living up to their names now."

I nod slowly, and he comes to sit by me again, running a hand over his face. I realize as he does so how tired he looks. Exhausted actually. I reach out and hug him gently, not clinging to him, not squeezing him or locking myself around him. I simply hug him, holding him close to me with my arms wrapped around his neck.

We stay like that for a long time. I let the tears slide down my face silently, the pain of losing him not diminished any by understanding why he has to go, but I refuse to allow myself to be that terrified, desperate girl I was just a few moments ago. He needs to leave without any baggage, and I'm going to give him that, no matter how hard it will be.

"I'll be okay," I whisper in his hear, and he hugs me closer. "You're going to be a wonderful father," I mange before the tears make it impossible to say anything else. My arms fall until their wrapped around the back of his shoulders, and I rest my face against his neck, crying quietly as he strokes my hair in silence with his cheek resting against the back of my head.

"I'm so sorry, Aria," he murmurs, and I shake with a silent sob, which causes him to tighten his grip around me. "I wish I could fix this."

I could think of several ways he could fix it, all of which are evil, selfish, and cruel, but I say nothing, only hugging him tight.

"Me too," I whisper. After a few more minutes I hug him once more and pull back. He reaches up and wipes tears from my face with the back of his hand. I smile and stand up, and he stands beside me. I've forgotten how tall he is; standing next to him, I feel small and insignificant. He's almost a full head taller than Drew – nearly as tall as Dad now.

"I have to go," he whispers, and I feel tears jump to my eyes again. He's not going to visit. I don't even ask. I already know the answer.

"Back to Danni, right?" I ask, not quite able to disguise the bitterness. He smiles sadly.

"I almost wish it was you," he murmurs, and I hear Dad cough and sputter for a few moments. I have to smile slightly.

"I almost wish it was me too," I reply, and Dad's coughing turns to choking.

"You alright, Mr. Weasley?" I hear Drew ask in concern.

"Fine," Dad wheezes.

Jake gives me another sad smile. "I'll miss you," he says, the smile slipping away, leaving only the sadness.

"I'll miss you more," I tell him sincerely, not even trying to make it a joke. The deepening of the sadness in his eyes tells me I'm probably right. He has _Danni,_ and soon a new baby. He won't have _time_ to miss me.

Jake opens his mouth, looks at me for a second, closes it, and walks past me. I start to protest – he can't leave without saying _good-bye!_ – but he only walks up to Drew.

"Make her happy," I hear him whisper, and I can't hold onto my exterior calmness anymore. I let the tears slide down my cheeks again as he turns back to me. He wipes the tears away again, wraps me in a hug, and kisses the top of my head. I wrap my arms around his waist long enough to hug him back, not wanting to miss the opportunity, but I don't hold on as he pulls away.

"Ron," he says, turning to Dad, who looks up expectantly. "I'm sorry."

Then he turns back to me, looking at me with such unbelievable sadness that it causes me actual physical pain that spreads through my chest until it hurts to breathe. He pulls me into another hug, this one too short to allow me to hug him back.

"I would tell you that I love you," he whispers, his voice strained, "but you don't want to hear it." And then he turns on his foot and disappears with a loud _crack._ I could have sworn the noise was the sound of what's left of my heart breaking.**

* * *

A/N**: Whew! That was long! And terribly sad. Next chapter we might _finally_ be able to get into Danni's home life and her past a little bit. Maybe. No promises though! I hope these last two chapters have more than made up for the fact that I didn't get my update out as soon as I wanted to. Please, please review! It's much appreciated! Love you all!


	19. Walks, Talks, & Tales

**A/N**: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews last chapter(s). I must say though, for all that work I went through (THIRTY-ONE PAGES PEOPLE!), I was a tad (MAJORLY) disappointed with the scant number of reviews I received for the last two chapters. Not that I'm going to go all crazy-author on you and withhold chapters from you (not that I could, because I don't have them done yet…).

Just… if you read it, review it! Not hard! Just press the little grayish purplish button down there and give me your views on how I'm doing Just DON'T say "great chapter, update soon!" PLEASE – that annoys me to NO END … and in all honesty, two-word reviews kind of bother me too ("awesome job", "great chapter", "good job", etc.). I like it if you could tell me one thing you liked, or something you didn't like, or just your views on what you think will or should happen in the future. I like reader input, and while I may not actually use your suggestions, some of them _might _make their ways into my story (you never know!).

So there's the end of my little rant. In all honesty I don't write this for your benefit (that's just a bonus – lucky you), I write it for mine because I've had these characters and their stories stuck in my head for so long that I just _had _to write them down, so I figured I'd post them here for your enjoyment. But really, I get more out of it than you do. ;) Still, input is much appreciated, and I love that you love this story so much.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Short Walks, Shorter Talks, and the Promise of a Long Tale**

Danni

I'm awoken by soft, familiar hands on my face, and I open my eyes to see Jake standing above me.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs, and I smile at him.

"No problem," I assure him, sitting up and making room for him on the sofa. I look at the clock to see it's been barely forty minutes since he left me. "Did you have a good talk with Ron?" I ask as he sinks down beside me.

His answering expression is so pained that I regret my question instantly. I reach out and put a hand on his arm, half expecting him to flinch away from me, but he doesn't. He slides is arm around my waist and draws me close. I manage not to stiffen as he envelopes me with his embrace, knowing it won't help him any right now to have my own insecurities come to surface.

"I need you to tell me this is the right decision," he whispers, his arms tightening around my waist, his head resting on top of mine. I run my fingertips along one of his arms and he hugs me.

"What happened, Jake?" I ask instead of assuring him like I should. The pain in his voice hurts to hear, and I want to make him feel better, but I need to know the cause of it. Did Ron disown him? Yell at him? Scream and rage? Throw things everywhere? Or did he just look at him with such disappointment that it completely broke poor Jake? I know what Mrs. Parks' disappointment did to him – I can't imagine what Ron – who is the closest thing to a father Jake's ever had – what his disappointment would do to him after everything he's already been through.

"I'm a terrible person," he whispers. "I broke her heart, Danni."

"Aria?" I ask, and I can't quite hide the contempt in my voice, though I manage to feel a bit ashamed of my dislike for her when he obviously cares so much about her.

He sighs deeply, and I know I've hit a nerve. I squeeze is arm gently and lean back against him. "I'm sorry, Jake."

"Don't be," he says softly. "I suppose you have the right to resent her a little."

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" I ask hesitantly. Aria is always such a sore subject with him. I wish I could see his face so I'd at least have some idea of what he's feeling, what he's thinking. He's not very good at hiding his emotions, and they always play across his face, which usually helps me figure out which way to steer the conversation, but now, I just have to play this by ear.

"Not so much," he murmurs. "I didn't mean to see her. I didn't want to talk to her. I just wanted to get in, talk to Ron, and get out again. I was just going to disappear, just let the distance grow and grow until she realized-" he breaks off and I can feel him shaking his head. From his choked-up tone, I wonder if there are tears in his eyes. I wrap my arms around one of his, hugging him to me, wishing I could comfort him, knowing that only one person can do that, and he just ruined any chance he'll ever have with her again.

"She was listening at the door," he continues with another sigh. "She was so … so angry, and so sad." I hug him again, and his arms pull me closer. "We talked. When I left she was … not okay, but … not … not…" he trails off, searching for the right words.

"She forgave you?" I suggest.

"Maybe. I don't know. She was a little calmer about the whole thing. She seemed to accept it, but I'm sure the next few days will be hard-" he breaks off again, and this time I'm_ sure_ there are tears in his eyes. I twist around in his arms to look up at him, and he smiles sadly at me.

"I'm sorry, Jake," I say again, almost truly remorseful for his heartbreak. He shakes his head at me.

"It was my decision. It _was_ the right decision," he says decisively, and I smile at his hand resting on my still-flat stomach.

"I love you," I tell him, feeling the truth of the words more and more each time I say them.

"I know you do. And … I'm going to try to love you," he whispers. "I want to love you. I love this baby," he tells me, his face earnest, wanting – needing – me to understand. I reach up and put a hand against his face, and he leans into it, closing his eyes and even smiling a little bit.

"I can live with that," I tell him, and his smile widens. He kisses my palm and reaches up and takes my hand in his before curling his arms around me again, still holding my hand. His thumb moves in small circles on the back of my hand, and I smile, settling against him again.

"I'm glad I chose this," Jake says softly, though his tone is still sad.

"You miss her, huh?" I ask instead of commenting.

"So much," he admits, dipping his head and resting his cheek against mine. I resist the urge to kiss him, knowing it's not the right time. "But I couldn't leave you, Danni. What kind of horrible person would I be then?"

"Thank you," I murmur. "For staying," I clarify when he opens his mouth to ask. We sit in silence for a few more minutes, and then I feel tears welling up in my eyes, though I can't quite explain why. I clutch his arm and turn my face into it.

"Don't cry," he whispers. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"I'm horrible," I tell him, knowing it's true. I tore him away from the girl he _loves_ because I _think _that _I _love him. I don't even know him! Aria's known him for _years!_

"You're not," he tells me, rubbing my arms soothingly.

"I'm so selfish. You _love_ her, Jake!" I cry. His arms pull me closer still until I'm practically sitting in his lap.

"But I chose you," he whispers. "You gave me the choice, Danni. You're not selfish. You gave me the choice and _I chose you_."

"I need you," I whimper, still clinging to him. "I'm so scared, Jake. I don't know the first thing about raising a baby. I need you so much. If you'd chosen her I still would have asked you to stay. I would have begged you. I would have made some sort of compromise. I'm just-just – I'm just so scared." I cry into his arm, and he hugs me comfortingly.

"That's why I'm here," he murmurs. "Because we need each other. I know that. I'd never leave you alone like this, Danni. I'm scared too, but we'll get through it together. I love our baby, and … someday, Danni, I'm going to love you too."

x.x

Jake

The sound of a door opening down the hall tears Danni from my arms. I watch her as she slides casually to the other end of the sofa, flashing me a smile as she does so, wiping away any tears lingering on her cheeks. A few seconds later my grandmother is standing in the doorway, looking almost apprehensive of what she might find. I offer her a tentative smile, and she nods coolly.

She smiles then, and when she speaks, her tone is friendly enough. "I'm going to take a walk. Would either of you care to join me?"

Translation: One, if not both of you had better come with me or I'm not leaving this house because _I don't trust the two of you alone_.

"Sure, Mrs. Parks," Danni says with a smile, getting up. She shoots me a look that tells me I've been _un_invited. I smile at her and stretch out on the sofa.

"No thanks, it's still pretty wet out there," I say, noticing that while the rain has stopped, the early afternoon is still drizzly, gray, and most _definitely_ wet. Danni rolls her eyes with a smile and goes to the front hall for her coat. Taking advantage of our moment alone, my grandmother stares me down.

I stare back expressionlessly, knowing she's trying to find something there, but not sure what it is.

"Did you have a nice time at Ron's?" she asks sweetly, but I can hear the underlying menace in her tone. I wince, part me realizing that she's doing this just to see what my sore spots are, and it's not a happy realization. Because from her tone, her probing gaze, and her slightly triumphant smirk, I realize just then where my mother got her nastiness from. The insight doesn't comfort me one bit.

"Ready?" Danni asks, appearing again, looking totally oblivious. Yet, she had to have heard the whole thing. She was standing five steps away when the question was asked. She turns her golden eyes on me, offers me a rather sympathetic smile which tells me she _did_ hear, and then turns around and heads for the door with my grandmother in her wake. I can only imagine the conversation they'll strike up on their walk.

Finally alone, I sigh and slump back against the pillows on the sofa, letting self-pity and sadness roll over me now that I don't have a frightened, pregnant girl to comfort. I know my decision was the right one, but that doesn't mean I don't feel terrible for hurting Aria. _More like you feel terrible for cutting her out of your life because now you can't have her and you basically gave that Drew guy free rein_, my Sean-like conscience sneers at me. I roll my eyes.

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity," I mutter, rolling onto my side and cradling a too-small, decorative pillow between my arm and my ear. I will myself to drop off to sleep, knowing I probably won't, but still wishing I could. I shift around to find a comfortable position on the overstuffed sofa, wondering as I do so why anyone would put this horrid thing in their living room. It's not comfortable, and it's not very appealing, being in a hideous floral print that most _blind_ people wouldn't put up with.

_What is your problem?_

My bitterness confuses me. Maybe it's just the after-effects of basically "breaking up" with Aria, for lack of a better term. Or maybe it's because I know Danni and I aren't ready to be parents, but regardless of how prepared we are, a baby is coming in just over eight months, and we'd better be ready to take care of it.

I wish there was a way to have both Aria _and_ my baby. I know I already considered it, and I know I already deemed it impossible. Could Danni ever be _that_ selfless? No, probably not. She'd hate it.

So instead, I think about what Ron asked. _Are you going to marry her?_ The thought terrifies me. I don't want to marry Danni. I want to marry Aria. _I can't marry Aria,_ I remind myself darkly. _Not now, not ever_.

Yet, I wish I could. I love Aria. So, so much. I'm more than ready to spend the rest of my life with her. I realize with a jolt that if I'd never left, I_ could have_ spent the rest of my life with her – Ron was so ready to let me. I wonder if I should have asked her the day we got out of Hogwarts. _Married at eighteen – there's something your dear old mum would be proud of_. I cringe away from that train of thought, but that stupid _voice_ won't _shut up_.

_As long as you're planning your alternate life, were you planning on getting Aria pregnant on your wedding night, too?_

The words shock me, and what shocks me even more is that they come from my own mind – they weren't planted there by my mother, by Ron or Keira, or by my grandmother. My mum never even _married_ my father – where did that thought _come_ from?! It scares me that things like that are stored away in the back my mind, and I honestly wonder for a minute or so if I'm totally schizo.

_No, of course not. Just very in touch with your subconscious._ Maybe. But then that stupid, stupid little voice just doesn't give up. _So WERE you planning on getting her pregnant on your wedding night? Having a kid only nine months into your marriage without a solid job or any way to support you other than _her_ job? Or were you going to get her pregnant first and marry her later? Isn't that what your parents had planned? Except they never did get married did they?_

_It took five years, but eventually he got sick of you. He wasn't married to her – he was free to go. Nothing to hold him there. He didn't care about you – he probably stayed for the sex._

No, that _can't_ be true … can it? He wouldn't stay for _five years_ just for _sex_ would he? Then again, what do I even know about him? Other than that I have absolutely no memories of him at all, despite being able to remember with almost perfect clarity the first few weeks I spent at the Weasleys'…

"She modified my memory!" I nearly shout, jumping up in sudden fury, absolutely positive it's true even as I say it. Of course she would have. It wouldn't do to have any memories of a father I was supposedly so attached to (if my grandmother is to be believed) contradicting dear Mum's stories of what a complete loser he was. It would have been easy enough to do in the car on the way to the Weasleys'-

Wait, car? What car? I sit down again, putting my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes tight, straining to remember, _needing_ to remember. There _was_ a car…wasn't there?

And suddenly, I _do _remember. Not everything – nothing about my father or the house where we once surely lived. But I remember the interior of a car. I was in the backseat – must have been, because I was looking at the dials on the dashboard dead-center, and I could just see the side of my mum's face.

I remember there was music – strange, Muggle music that was oddly familiar. We drove and drove and drove. Or maybe it just felt like such a long time because I was so little. And then I remember conversation:

"Mummy, where are we going?"

"You'll see." She sounded so tense, angry, anxious. Annoyed. Mostly annoyed I think. She was always annoyed with me when I was little. This comes as another shock. How can I remember that?

"Are we there yet?" The most common childhood cliché. I nearly smile at the memory.

"No."

"When will we get there?"

"Eventually."

"Is Daddy going to be there?" And suddenly I remember other things – things I didn't even know were stored away in my memory. My train of thought flies away from the car, leaving the conversation unfinished.

I remember hands – huge, strong, firm hands – lifting me up, throwing me into the air, causing me to scream with laughter. Not Ron's hands, because he never did that, not even in those first few weeks when he says he let himself love me so thoroughly.

I can suddenly remember looking down at a head full of dark, nearly black hair, curly, thick. Remember riding on huge, wide shoulders, my hands and arms wrapped around that head and hanging on for dear life. And the more I remember, the sadder I become. If my newly remembered memories are accurate – and I suspect they are – my father _loved_ me.

_That _realization more than any other shocks me so much I actually stop breathing for a few seconds. But if that's true, then why did my mother take me to live with the Weasleys? Did he suddenly change his mind? I don't think I can believe that. I chew on that for some time, slowly giving myself a migraine.

After awhile I confuse myself so thoroughly that I can barely think straight, and the pounding in my head has gotten to be unbearable. Groaning, I lie down on the sofa again and sandwich my head between two pillows to block the light out.

x.x

Danni

Mrs. Parks is quiet for the first few minutes of our slightly damp walk. Completely unconsciously, my feet take me on the path to the park where Jake and I sat just yesterday – it feels like so much longer ago. There are children there today, and the sight of them makes me quiver slightly. Will my child ever play like that? I wonder. I hope so.

"You shouldn't have said that to Jake," I murmur after another minute of silence. She looks at me in surprise.

"Said what?" she asks innocently, and I roll my eyes.

"You shouldn't have asked him about Ron – you knew that would hit a nerve, and you did it deliberately to hurt him," I accuse her. She at least has the decency to look ashamed of herself.

"That was wrong of me."

"Yes it was."

We continue to walk, skirting around the perimeter of the park, quiet again for some time before Mrs. Parks speaks again.

"Have you and Jake talked about what you're going to do?" she asks softly. I chew on that for a moment before deciding what she means by her question.

"We're going to keep the baby," I murmur, and I can see her nod out of the corner of my eye as if she had been expecting that. "Other than that we haven't really talked about it much."

"You need to get out of that house, Danni," she says with a soft sigh. I feel myself tense involuntarily at her words, and she notices and plows on before I can stop the direction this conversation is taking.

"He's going to hurt you – or hurt the baby. You can't keep living there," she says earnestly. I look away, knowing she's right, hating that she's right.

"Where am I supposed to go?" I whisper at last. "I'm only seventeen – and that might be the age of adulthood in the wizarding world, but I have an entire year left before I'm considered an adult here. And I still have two whole years of school left, Mrs. Parks. What can I do?"

"You can move into my house," she says instantly, as though she'd been waiting for me to finish just so she could say that. I turn and stare at her. She's kidding. She's going to let me stay in the same house with her and _Jake? _Jake, who she blames for this happening in the first place – I know because I can see it in her face whenever she looks at him. She expected him to be the responsible one, the one to look after me, the one to lay down the rules for us.

And yet, for one blissful minute I toy with the idea. I've always felt at home at Mrs. Parks' house, and the idea of actually _living_ there, as opposed to once in a while sleeping overnight like I used to before Jake moved in is very appealing.

"He wouldn't let me," I murmur at last, and when I can finally look her in the eye again, I see her unsurprised – she knew I would say it. She sighs and pats my arm softly.

"We'll work something out when it comes to that," she whispers. Her words, though meant to be comforting, terrify me.

"I don't want it to have to come to that," I reply, and she shakes her head at me, her face grave.

"Me neither, sweetheart, me neither."

x.x

Jake

The sound of the front door opening drags me from my doze – I hadn't even realized I was asleep. I sit up dazedly as Danni and my grandmother come into the room, both looking rather grim. I glance back and forth between them while my fuzzy brain tries to make sense of their expressions, but I don't understand. I look to Danni for explanation, and a tiny smile creeps across her face. She glances at Gran, who nods and leaves the room without a word.

"What was that about?" I ask, blinking to clear the haziness as Danni takes a seat beside me and slips her fingers through mine. I squeeze her hand feebly, and she smiles again.

"You're so cute when you're just waking up," she says with an amused grin. I just smile slightly in return. "Did you have a good nap?" she asks, that smile still playing across her features, tugging at the corners of her mouth, amusement sparking in her eyes and making them dance.

"Sure did," I mumble. "Didn't even know I was asleep until you came in the door." She laughs slightly, but her good humor is disappearing fast. I can see she has something on her mind, and I try harder to drag myself from my sleepiness.

"Wha-" I break off as a yawn overcomes me, and she smiles again. "What's wrong?" I manage at last.

"We need to talk," she says quietly. _Those _words again. Last time she said them – just yesterday – she told me I was going to be a father. What could it be _now? _She's having twins? My terror flips on instantly with that thought.

"You're not having twins are you?" I ask, and for just a second the nervousness and discomfort vanishes as she stares at me. A split second later she bursts out laughing.

"No," she manages around her giggling. "No, I'm not having twins. At least not that I'm aware of."

"Whew," I say with a grin of my own. "You scared me there for a second." And with those simple, good-natured words, her smile is gone again, and I feel regret tugging at my heart.

"Jake," she sighs, pulling at a loose thread on her sleeve distractedly. "There's something I really need to tell you."

"You can tell me anything," I remind her, slipping an arm around her waist. She stiffens slightly for a few seconds before relaxing against me, a response I've almost gotten used to, but still manages to baffle me. She sighs again.

"I'm going to tell you about my parents," she murmurs, and I'm instantly on edge. This subject as been taboo the entire time I've been here. I sensed from the beginning that it was something to be avoided, and that the topic made her uncomfortable – fearful even – so I never brought it up.

"What about them?" I ask softly, not wanting to scare her in any way. If I do, she might not tell me, and I want so badly to know – the curiosity has been eating at me for weeks and weeks.

"It's kind of a long story," she murmurs, and I nearly laugh, but manage to refrain.

"Long stories I can live with," I assure her, wrapping my other arm around her middle and pulling her close. She leans against me and wraps both arms around my left, hugging me close and not loosening her grip. I hug her gently.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whisper, kissing the side of her head comfortingly. She nods, sighs again, and begins her tale.**

* * *

A/N**: Sorry about the cliffhanger, honestly – it couldn't be helped. Ack, I really meant to get into Danni's past here, honestly I did, but my story has a mind of its own – it winds its way to the main points in its own way, and nothing I can do will rush it. I was going to cut out Jake's memories of his dad until a later chapter when that part of the plot comes up again, but I couldn't make it work without basically slashing out his _entire_ point of view in the beginning.

So we'll get to Danni next chapter _for sure_. You got little glimpses and hints in this chapter, setting up the stage for their talk, but I really didn't feel up to writing yet _another_ seventeen-to-ninteen-page-long chapter, so it's a little shorter than the last four chapters or so, but that doesn't mean this chapter isn't important. It's one of those bridge chapters that are essential for getting our plot from one point to the next without total confusion. Plus, this really isn't all that short (twelve pages!) so you can't honestly complain, can you?

Not much else to say (review, please!). I just wanted to point you all in the direction of my newly redone (again) profile. If you're ever looking for a good book (or series…) to read, check out the list on my profile page (it's getting quite long…).

Also listed there are some great fanfics (both Twilight for those of you so inclined and HP for the rest), some hilarious quotes/improv skits from my friends and the likes, and plenty of other entertainment! I always reply to PMs so don't be afraid to ask any questions you might have (the only time I _don't_ reply to a PM would be if I plain forgot or if I'm extremely busy and the original PM didn't say something of immediate importance to me, but I rarely ignore them, I promise. I can think of maybe _one _time I _haven't _replied to a PM. It might take awhile, but I'll usually get back to you … eventually.).

So yeah, if you're ever in need of a good book or good fanfic, check out my profile! Other than that, nothing interesting to say. Please review! Thank you! (Ha, that rhymed.)

And here I was trying to make these stupid author's notes shorter… silly me.


	20. Actions Speak Louder than Words

**A/N**: Whoo! Chapter TWENTY! My little creation is getting so big… _dramaticsniff. _Haha. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Actions Speak Louder than Words**

_Previously:_

_Jake_

"_It's kind of a long story," she murmurs, and I nearly laugh, but manage to refrain._

"_Long stories I can live with," I assure her, wrapping my other arm around her middle and pulling her close. She leans against me and wraps both arms around my left, hugging me close and not loosening her grip. I hug her gently. She nods, sighs, and begins her tale._

_.x._

"Well … I guess it started when my dad got sick when I was eight," Danni says softly, still wrapped tightly around my left arm and not looking as though she's planning on loosening her grip any time soon. She has her cheek pressed against the inside of my arm as she stares across the room with a faraway look on her face.

"My dad … he was a good guy. I mean, he really loved my mum a lot and he always made time for her and for me. He was always taking me places – the beach, amusement parks, football games…" she trails off again, gazing steadily at a bare stretch of wall directly across from us. While she's doing that, I try to remember what the heck _football_ is. After a while I remember – vaguely – that either Mike Carson or Aiden Mydlin had explained the sport to me back in first or second year. Something about kicking some black and white ball around a field and trying to score goals…?

After almost two minutes of silence, she shakes herself a little and sighs. "Then one day … he went to the doctor-" My mind instantly makes the connection with the word 'Healer' "-and when he came home, he told us-" Her voice breaks and she squeezes my arm tight for a few seconds while she calms herself.

"He told us he was sick and he didn't know when – or if - he'd get better. I was too young to really understand what was wrong with him then, and by the time I did understand all about disease and illnesses, Mum wouldn't talk about it anymore. He…" she pauses again, her voice tapering off. I hug her again and she takes a shaky breath. "He died six months later," she whispers.

"Oh, Danni, that's awful," I murmur, holding her close. She just nods and takes a few more deep breaths.

"It's alright," she says after another minute or so. "I mean … I'm okay with it now. The doctors did everything they could to help him, but it just … wasn't enough I guess," she sighs with a shrug. I open my mouth to comfort her, but she continues to talk, cutting me off.

"I was twelve when Mum met Craig. Almost twelve anyway – it was the summer before I guess. Anyway, I thought he was pretty cool at first. My mum was pretty much smitten from the second she laid eyes on him – they met the supermarket of all places, and they used to laugh about how they smashed into each other and sent one another's groceries flying, and then how she accidentally ended up with his wallet.

"Mum called him when she found the wallet, and he said he'd stop by later to get it. When he got to our house she invited him to stay for dinner after he commented on how good it smelled. He was really nice to me, and I liked him.

"He kept coming back – he'd stop by on his way to work, claiming he remembered something he'd meant to say last time he saw Mum, or saying he was "just in the neighborhood" and thought he'd stop by. He'd take my mum out for dinner, and I'd come over here and hang out with Mrs. P, and then Mum would come home all flushed and looking happier than I'd seen her in years.

"One night Craig asked if I wanted to go along, so I did, and he took us to an amusement park – have you ever been to one?" she asks, looking up at me. I wrinkle my brow at her.

"I don't … think so…" I say uncertainly. _What the heck is an amusement park?_

"I should take you sometime," she says with a grin. I smile back at her, and she snuggles closer against me. After a few moments she starts talking again.

"That night was pretty great. Craig seemed like the most amazing guy ever – he took me on all the fast rides that Mum wouldn't go on, and he won me a giant stuffed dog in one of the games. He took us out for dinner in a fancy restaurant, and we had such a great time. When we got home he came inside and he and Mum talked for a really long time. Then he talked to me alone – I don't quite remember what exactly Mum was doing – and he actually _asked _me if it would be alright with me if he married her. He asked me if I would be okay with him being my new dad.

"I was pretty excited, imagining going out all the time and having him dote on me like he did that night. I thought this would be great – I missed my dad of course, but I figured if there was ever anyone who could be a substitute, it would be Craig. And for the first few months, things _were_ great – really great. I'd never seen Mum so happy, and he took me someplace fun at least once a week. We were a real family. We were so happy."

A distant smile spreads across Danni's face as she remembers, but I have a feeling that this is where the happy part of her story ends. I've always sensed something dark and terribly sad lurking underneath her usually perky and upbeat attitude, and it sort of scares me. But this is something I need to know. So when the smile slips away and she takes a deep breath, I push aside me own sudden fears and hold her tight. She grips my arm and closes her eyes.

"Then Craig lost his job. We were okay for awhile – Mum still had her job, and Craig was looking for a new one. Except he didn't – find a job I mean. Well … he _did_, but he couldn't hold any of them. And he started getting angrier and angrier with his own incompetence. He started drinking…

"I'd come home from school and he'd be sitting on the sofa in front of the TV in the exact same position he'd been in when I left. The only difference from the morning to the afternoon was the number of empty bottles around him." Danni shudders, and I hug her again.

"At first it wasn't really so bad. I mean, the house smelled of alcohol all the time, and Craig was pretty moody all the time, but he wasn't… Well, I'd prefer _that_ Craig to the current one anyway. But that was about as bad as it got for awhile. He yelled now and then, but not much – we blamed it on his depression.

"Things started getting worse the summer before I turned fourteen. He'd go into these fits of rage and he'd scream and yell and throw things for what I thought were completely stupid reasons – Mum forgot to empty the rubbish bin or she left a dirty dish on the counter. I didn't like it when he yelled – I wasn't used to the sound of arguing. My dad had never yelled – sure he and Mum had disagreements, but he'd never been like Craig, screaming and throwing stuff. It was terrifying.

"I don't know exactly when it started for sure. Maybe it was that summer, maybe a few months later – I dunno. I just know that one day, after a really long argument, the door slammed, and I heard my mum in the living room crying – sobbing really. I went out to see what was wrong, and I saw this … _bruise_ on her face – it was shaped like a handprint. All I could think was, '_How hard do you have to slap someone to make that kind of mark?'_ I was just in shock." Danni pauses again, staring off into space once more as she remembers.

I stare at her, not quite able to fathom how any man could actually_ hit_ a woman – especially one he claimed to love and was _married_ to. I open my mouth again – this time to ask a question, though I'm not sure which one – but she cuts me off again.

"After that, it only got worse. They fought every day, and every day it would end in Craig storming out of the house – I still don't know where he went all those times – and Mum crying in the living room with a new bruise on her face or her arms. I hated him for hurting her, but what could I do? I was – and still am – just a kid. And I was scared. I was afraid of saying or doing something wrong that would trigger that violence in him. I was afraid to walk through my own house." She pauses, shaking her head.

"I don't know how she does it," Danni whispers, tears filling her eyes. "I don't know how she goes to work every day and pretends nothing is wrong, like we're just one big happy family. And Craig's not stupid – he knows that if she shows up with bruises on her face that people will talk. After those first few times he stopped hitting her face.

"But he still hits her. I hate him so much for hurting her," she murmurs, her fingers digging into my arm. Tears slip down her cheeks and she buries her face in my shoulder. I pull her toward me until she's sitting in my lap like a little kid, and I hold her close. She cries softly into my arm and I hug her.

I think about what she's told me, and as terrible as it already is, I sense that she's not telling me everything. I know she probably doesn't want to talk about it anymore, but I have to know.

"Danni has he ever hurt you?" I whisper. She stiffens, her fingernails digging even further into my skin. I grit my teeth to keep from ripping my arm out of her grasp.

"It didn't really hurt," she says softly, and I can't stop the whoosh of air that escapes my lips in a gasp. She flinches and frowns somewhat guiltily.

"Danni, tell me the truth," I insist angrily. She bites her lip and looks up at me with wild uncertainty in her eyes. It takes me a few moments to realize that uncertainty isn't the only thing there. She's glancing up at me with … _fear_ in her eyes.

"Danni, please," I whisper, loosening my tight hold on her a bit. She leans back and stares at me. "Please tell me the truth."

"It only happened once," she says softly, looking away.

"Danni!" I nearly shout at her, and she jumps, glancing up at me nervously. I lower my tone instantly at the fear in her face.

"That's the truth," she says softly.

"Well it was one time too many," I growl. If she wasn't sitting on my lap with her fingernails still embedded in my arm, I'm not sure what would be stopping me from marching down the street to _murder_ this Craig guy. Well, that and the fact that I don't actually know which house is hers – but I'm sure I could figure it out.

"It really didn't hurt," she insists. "Not much."

"He shouldn't be doing _anything_ that would make you hurt," I tell her fiercely. She looks at me with a slightly worried expression.

"You're not gonna do anything stupid, are you?" she asks, eyeing me rather warily. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"_You_ should tell someone," I inform her. Her eyes widen in horror.

"I can't tell anyone!" she exclaims, shaking her head firmly.

"You told me," I remind her, and she just shakes her head some more.

"That's different. I mean … the way I figure it is … you have a right to know, don't you? I mean… aren't-aren't we kind of starting a future together? I figure you need to know things about me," she murmurs uncertainly.

"Danni …" I don't even know what to say to her. It takes all of my self-control not to get up from this sofa and go hunt down her bastard of a stepfather.

"Please, Jake, don't do anything, okay? It only happened one time, and it was a long time ago. Just forget it, okay?" she says soothingly, finally taking her dagger-like fingernails from my arm. She reaches up and lays a hand against my face. I sigh and hug her close again.

"I'm just worried about you," I sigh, kissing her forehead. She smiles gently.

"Don't. I'm okay, really. He just ignores me usually, so long as I stay out of his way and keep quiet enough, which isn't too hard. Seriously, I'm fine," she says, and for a few seconds I almost believe her sincerity. But then something in her eyes flickers uncertainly, and in the few seconds it takes her to find a calm expression again, I see the pain and fear that she tries so hard to hide.

"You're not fine," I murmur. "You can't stay in that house, Danni." Her eyes fill with tears and her lip trembles dangerously.

"I know," she chokes out, her voice breaking. She glances back up at me, new and raw fear in her eyes. "He scares me, Jake," she admits softly.

Her arms wrap around my neck and I hold her while she cries again, though I can't tell if her trembling is the result of her tears or her fear. I suspect it might be a bit of both, but I say nothing as I rub her back in soft circles.

"Shh," I murmur. "I'm here."

x.x

Danni

I didn't think it would be so easy to talk to him about it. It all just came out so easily. I almost expected him to tell me to stop making up stories, that I was terrible to say such things about the man who had so graciously taken my mother and me in. But he didn't do that.

The only other time I dared to come forward about what was happening at home was when I confided in one of my favorite teachers last year, who told me that he was bound by law to tell authorities, and police got involved, only when they came around to check up on us, they couldn't find anything incriminating.

The house was clean because of my mum, who always cleaned up after Craig before going to bed. It smelled almost normal thanks to the air freshener she'd gotten and plugged into the outlet in the corner of the living room. Any bruises left on her body were hidden beneath long-sleeve shirts, which wasn't unusual as it was late autumn, and getting cooler every day.

The next day at school I was called into the headmaster's office and chastised for making up stories – they even called in Craig and Mum and we all sat down and talked it out. Craig explained that I had a very active imagination and sometimes resented him for marrying my mother after my dad died.

I tried to explain that this wasn't true, but I barely got a word in edgewise as Craig told them all that he understood my anger and would try to work it out with me over the next week. He even – much to my horror – asked them to excuse me from school the next day because he felt so terrible for all of this happening that he was going to take me out and spend some "quality father-daughter time" with me.

The school guidance counselor, headmaster, and police officer all smiled at him as if to say, "Now what a great dad. Why would any girl make up such terrible lies about such a great guy?" It nearly broke my heart when they all agreed that it was a wonderful idea for Craig to spend some quality time with me, and how considerate of him – not many men would be so willing to dote on someone else's daughter, and I should consider myself lucky to have such a great stepfather.

Of course as soon as we got home that afternoon he lit into me like there was no tomorrow. I was being honest when I told Jake that it hadn't hurt – not then. I was so shocked and afraid that I couldn't even feel the pain. I barely even remember it to be honest. I remember the next day though. I could barely move I hurt so bad. Like I said before, Craig's no idiot. Even when he's completely wasted he's not so stupid as to go for the face, which bruises easily and is much harder to hide. My arms and my back though, that was another story. It hurt to shrug my shoulders, and I could barely sit up. Just walking down the hall between my room and the bathroom was enough to make me throw up from the pain.

I can't tell that sort of thing to Jake though. Sure, he's a wizard and he could probably easily defeat Craig with a few flicks of his wand, but not without getting thrown into wizard jail for using magic on a "Muggle" as he refers to us non-magical people.

"Are you alright now?" he murmurs in my ear, and I smile at his sweetness. I nod and pull back to look up into his face. He smiles gently and kisses my forehead again. I attempt a smile in return, and it must come out almost right because he hugs me, still smiling at me in a way that actually makes me feel … beautiful. I cock my head at him, unaccustomed to such treatment, and his smile widens as his chest shakes in a silent chuckle at my expression.

"You're funny," he says with a grin that tells me it's a good thing. I can't help but smile back.

"I love you," I remind him, and he just smiles some more.

"I know," he says simply. I feel a slight stab of disappointment that he can't return the sentiment, but the fact that he's even here makes me think there must be hope. Okay, I _know_ he only stayed for the baby, but didn't he say just this morning that he was going to try to love me too? And isn't that just as good as him actually saying he loves me? Maybe not quite, but I have to believe that he _will_ try, and maybe one day he really will love me – if not as much as he loves Aria, then maybe close enough, and I only hope that I can accept that in time.

"Hey," he says softly now, obviously able to sense my disappointment. His fingers trace small circles on my lower back and a shiver of pleasure runs up my spine. "Danni…" he murmurs uncertainly, and his voice reminds me of his non-love for me, despite the good feeling his hands leave on my back.

"It's fine, Jake," I say with a forced smile. He sighs, runs one hand through already messy hair, only succeeding in making it stand up even more, and looks at me seriously.

"You have to give me time, Danni," he says rather pleadingly, letting his hand drop back down to my waist. "You can't expect so much from me so soon. I'm sorry," he says, and I believe his sincerity. "I'm sorry I don't love you like you love me, but I'm _here_, aren't I? Doesn't that count for something?"

I smile gently and wrap my arms around his neck again, leaning back and staring up into his face. He looks at me a little warily, waiting for my answer.

"It counts for everything," I tell him. "It means so much to me, and it's one of the reasons I love you so much."

He smiles and pulls me close in a hug. Knowing I shouldn't, but not quite able to refrain, I lean in and plant a soft kiss on his lips.

x.x

Jake

I'm not sure what it is about Danni that makes me forget myself when I'm with her. When she kisses me – when her very soft, gentle lips touch mine – something in my chest sets on fire and it's like this wild beast that is nearly impossible to tame. Maybe it's because I haven't kissed too many girls before – maybe three total, which isn't exactly something to brag about – and I crave female contact more than I realize.

Whatever it is though, when she kisses me so sweetly, my insides turn to fire and I grab her mouth greedily with my own. She lets the kiss continue for a moment before smiling against my lips and pulling back, looking up at me with amusement sparking in her golden eyes. I just stare at her, half with longing and half with fear for what she does to me with something so simple as a kiss. And that's the only thing that does it – a kiss, I mean. I can hold her and hug her and kiss her forehead and her cheeks all I want, but one kiss – even one so simple and innocent as the one she just gave me – to the lips from her and I go nuts.

She's still looking up at me rather curiously. I smile at her as well as I can, all things considered, and she just smiles back knowingly. She leans in again and my chest constricts in anticipation. But instead of kissing me on the mouth, she brushes her lips against my jaw, so softly I can barely feel it. Then she leans up and whispers in my ear.

"Please don't apologize for that," she murmurs, and I close my eyes and smile.

"I won't," I assure her, kissing her by the ear and running my fingers along her spine. She shivers and draws back just enough to look me in the eye, our noses practically touching. I look at her, a bit cross-eyed from her close proximity.

"Sometimes," she breathes, her eyes boring into mine, her smile disappearing suddenly, "you really confuse me, Jacob Parks."

"Sometimes," I whisper back with a slight smile, "I confuse myself too." And then I kiss her. And she kisses me back.**

* * *

A/N**: Whew! I finally got it out! I know it took forever (an entire week longer than I originally planned on taking) but it really was a difficult chapter to write. And it's not very long compared to more recent chapters (sorry!) but I couldn't drag it out any more. I think we'll stick around with Jake and Danni for one more chapter and then we'll have a couple chapters from Aria again. That _should_ work.

Oh, and I couldn't figure out a way to fit it into the story, but if any of you were wondering about the fact that Danni mentioned she had never told anyone about her stepfather after the deal with the teacher, but Mrs. Parks still seemed to know, well, I'll just explain that.

See, Mrs. Parks _suspects_ (correctly) what goes on in Danni's house, and Danni has hinted at it in the past, but she's never come right out and said in no uncertain terms, "Yes, my stepfather abuses my mum." And Mrs. Parks also knows about the whole police thing (that they didn't find anything) and realizes that it would probably happen the same way again – plus Danni is pretty terrified of what would happen if Craig (damn him) found out she had told someone else, and Mrs. P realizes that, and doesn't want to take action until she's sure Danni is safe from harm.

Like I said – couldn't get that fit into the story just right, but I figured you all deserved to know because I'm sure a couple of you picked up on it and were curious.

So anyway, please review, and I'm sorry for the delay! Thanks for reading!


	21. Taboo Topics

**A/N**: Special congrats to **ballerinadoll9 **for being my 150th reviewer! Just a quick note today, and then I'll let you get on with the chapter. Jake's been kind of skipping around, calling his grandmother 'Grandma' and then 'my grandmother/grandma', and a couple of other combinations, but from here on out, Jake will be calling her 'Gran'. It fits her. I've already gone back and edited previous chapters for it. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: Taboo Topics**

Danni

Monday morning hits me like a tidal wave. School starts today. I drag myself out of bed extremely unwillingly and set about getting dressed. That's the only thing I like at all about our school uniforms – it really makes picking out what to wear simple, even if it's not the most flattering outfit. I scrape my hair back into a ponytail, not bothering to deal with makeup or some fancy hairstyle. It's Monday, it's early, and I'm tired. Three things that definitely don't make me enthusiastic about the image in the mirror.

With a yawn I creep out as silently as I can into the kitchen and pour myself some cereal. I sit at our tiny and crappy kitchen table, scarfing down cereal as fast as I can despite the fact that I know I'll probably wind up puking it back up as soon as I get to school – dam morning sickness and all. I try not to let that thought go any further, because I'll just end up anxious and scared again.

The thought of becoming a mum terrifies me, but what terrifies me even more is what Craig and _my _mum will say when they find out. Okay, if I'm being honest with myself, I don't even care what Mum has to say – she's so out of it most of the time I'm surprised she even knows I exist. But I can't predict what Craig will say or do – I never can.

So you can totally understand why I haven't told them yet – Mum thinks I've had some sort of flu the last couple weeks or so, and Craig doesn't care, so long as I leave him alone. I think Mum was relieved when I finally got out of the house to see Jake over the weekend. I think she was worried about what Craig would have to say if I stayed home any longer than I already had. Me, I could care less about what he has to _say_ – it's what he might _do_ that I'm worried about.

Finished with my cereal – and already feeling slightly queasy – I grab my bag, check my rather plain-looking appearance one more time, and hurry out the door. I can hear Mum just getting up for work in her room, and Craig won't be up till noon I'm sure – the earliest I've seen him get up in the last three years was ten o'clock, and that's a rarity.

I sigh as I head down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. I hate the bus. I hate how noisy and crowded it is, and I hate how everyone shouts over everyone else until you can barely hear yourself think, let alone talk to the person sitting next to you – not that anyone ever sits next to me anyway, since I don't have many friends, and the ones I do have don't ride the bus because _they're_ parents allowed them to get their driver's license.

As I walk past Mrs. Parks' house, I glance up just in time to see Jake's face disappearing from an upstairs window. I pause, waiting, wondering, hoping he'll come back so I can at least see his smile to get me through the day. I stand there for almost an entire minute, biting my lip, waiting. I'm just about to give up and keep going when the front door flies open and he stands there, his jeans hanging off his hips haphazardly, not wearing a shirt, his hair sticking up every which way – basically looking _extremely_ hot. He rushes down the front walk barefoot and pulls me into a hug, practically lifting me off my feet. I smile at his enthusiasm, so pleased that the suddenness of close contact doesn't even bother me.

"I thought I was going to miss you," he murmurs in my ear, breathing only slightly harder than usual. I grin up at him and plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiles back with a slight smirk, knowing that since Saturday, I've been very careful with when and where I kiss him. Not that I _mind_ having him completely lose control of himself every now and then – and it's nice to know what causes it now – but I figure the front walk isn't exactly appropriate.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't then," I reply with another smile. "Miss me, I mean." He grins back down at me, and when we lock eyes, his smile falters, becoming much more serious, and there's suddenly fire in his eyes. I know I should stop it before it happens – for one thing, I need to get to the bus stop, and for another, he's standing half naked out in the front yard for all the world to see – but I don't. He leans down and kisses me, and I reach one hand up and curl it around his head and hold him there for a few seconds. He groans after another moment and pulls away sharply.

"We can't do this," he says softly, almost apologetically. I smile gently.

"I know," I answer rather wistfully, not quite able to hide how I feel. But he just shakes his head, amusement evident in his expression.

"Shouldn't you be getting to school now?" he asks mock-sternly. I grin and hug him quickly.

"I guess so. I'll see you later." I lean up, kiss his cheek again. "Love you," I add quietly. I turn and walk away before he can say anything in return. I don't look back the whole way to the bus stop. I can't. If I do, I might just end up skipping school altogether to spend the entire day wrapped in Jake's arms, and I have a feeling that Mum – not to mention Mrs. Parks and Jake himself – might not approve.

The bus stop is already pretty crowded – mostly with younger kids. I spot one guy who might be in the year ahead of me, but he's one of those weird guys who never talks to anyone and just gives off the vibe of utter moroseness. There's another guy who may or may not be in my year sitting with his back against a tree, his nose stuck in some tattered paperback novel. I stand there and watch him for a minute or so, and eventually he must sense my gaze, because he raises his head – his eyes still glued to the page – very slowly, and then ever so carefully puts a finger to the page in his book and raises his eyes to mine.

I just look at him. He eyes me for a moment, gives me a slightly confused and weirded-out look, and returns to his novel. I shrug to myself and give the younger kids a once-over. They're all grouped together at the edge of the sidewalk, tittering excitedly about the first day of school. I wish I could be like them – younger, innocent, carefree… Maybe not carefree, but not as weighted down by things like family – both current and future in my case. I sigh softly, half of me – okay, _most_ of me – wanting to just forget this whole school thing entirely and go back to Jake and Mrs. Parks and just stay there all day with the two people I love most in the world.

But the bus pulls up right then, and rather grudgingly, I follow the younger kids on, taking a seat mid-way down the aisle and putting my bag up on the seat beside me so no one will sit with me. The creepy, depressed-looking guy sits down two seats behind me, and the paperback novel guy sits down in the seat across the aisle, not even gracing me with a glance as he buries his nose in his book again. I stare out the window as the bus rumbles away from the curb, taking me toward the supposed learning institution that is my school.

x.x

Jake

I sigh as I dump the tray of dirty dishes into the huge sink in the back of the kitchen of the coffee shop Gran and Danni got me a job at. I didn't want to work today, but I had nothing better to do with Danni at school. So here I am, dumping a heap of disgusting, sticky, slimy dishes into a tub of hot soapy water. The water splashes up and drenches my entire left arm as I do so, and I groan. I grumble darkly under my breath for a minute or two about how cold that will get as it dries before remembering, _duh_, I'm a wizard, I'm _in_ a wizard coffee shop – I can use my wand!

So I do exactly that. I take out my wand – which has been rather neglected the last few months that I've been staying with Gran – and dry my arm off. Feeling marginally more cheerful now, I head back out into the front of the shop.

I glance at the clock and stifle another groan. It's only two o'clock, and I don't get off until three thirty. The shop is nearly empty at this time. Everyone's lunch breaks are over, so there are only three people in right now, and even that is a lot, considering.

In the far corner is Bert, an ancient wizard with a beard that reaches nearly to his ankles who wears neon-colored robes all the time. Today is a nearly blinding yellow with blue stripes. I look away from the painful sight.

Over by the window is Lauta, a crazy old witch with silver hair – and when I say that, I mean it literally. Her hair isn't silver-gray. It's _silver_. It _sparkles_. She has these huge glasses that magnify her eyes by ten and make her look like an oversized bug or something. She never orders anything but green tea. I don't think I've ever seen her eat, and she sits in that window booth _all day_.

Lastly, at a table right near the counter is a tiny witch who couldn't be much older than thirty. She has midnight black hair that sticks up in strange tufts all over her head, but in a way that looks as though she's showcasing some new style that hasn't quite made it to the general public yet.

She doesn't dress like a witch though. She wears skin-tight black jeans and flowing white tops, and she has this superior air about her. I've only seen her in a couple times, and if it weren't for the fact that I saw her transfigure the salt shakers into mice while waiting for her order one day, I wouldn't peg her as magical at all. She looks like some Muggle model or something.

I try to watch her discreetly now as she sits at her table, sipping coffee and reading _Witch Weekly_ with a bored expression. Nearly five minutes pass before her eyes flicker up and catch mine. I look away quickly, embarrassed for staring. When I glance back she's still watching me. A small smile curls up the corners of her mouth and she beckons for me to come forward. I do so rather reluctantly.

"Can I help you?" I ask softly when I reach her side. She just looks up at me.

"You were staring at me," she says slowly, and I feel the back of my neck heat up.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, and she smiles in amusement.

"What's your name, kid?" she asks, and I swallow nervously. Who _is_ this lady?

"Jake," I murmur, unable to tear my gaze from her unnatural-looking green eyes.

"Jake, huh? What's a good-looking kid like you – fresh out of Hogwarts I'll bet – doing working at a place like this? You should be out starting your career. Or are you home-schooled? One more year left and you want to earn some extra Galleons, is that it? No?" she asks when I shake my head at her last question. "Well, then what _are_ you doing here, Jakey boy?"

I shrug uncomfortably. "I don't know what else to do," I tell her honestly. "And I need the money." Which is true. Because from what I remember about having Abby and Henry around as babies, they're not cheap.

"Mmm, parents kick you out?" she guesses, and I shake my head no. She just stares at me some more, and I have to wonder what on earth she's so interested in. "What then? Sick of over-lording parents pushing you around and decided to strike out on your own? Let me share a secret with you, kid: You won't keep rent working _here_."

I simply roll my eyes that, and she smiles ever so slightly more. Her sly smile makes me uncomfortable and slightly defensive. "What do you care why I'm working here? I'm serving you aren't I?" I ask rather snappishly, hoping Roberta won't hear – she'd skin me alive for being rude to a customer.

"Just curious as to what would possess a promising young man such as yourself to work in a coffee shop is all," she says serenely.

"Well it's really none of your business," I tell her indignantly, and she just smiles some more. I find myself getting furious at her, and I don't understand it at all.

She seems amused by my frustration. "Oh, of course not. I was just curious," she says with an innocent little smile. I glare at her.

"Well next time, I suggest you keep your observations to yourself," I snap. She simply smirks in a rather satisfied way and takes a sip of her coffee. Her expression sours – it must have gone cold – and I find vindictive pleasure in that.

"My coffee is cold," she says expectantly. I give her a little smirk before taking her mug and heading back behind the counter to get her a fresh cup. After giving it to her, I go back and stand against the front counter, watching her rather warily. She smiles knowingly over the brim of her cup but says nothing. After awhile she goes back to her magazine. I turn to check the clock again and barely catch her murmured, "Such a waste."

.x.

As the weeks continue, a pattern is formed. Every morning I meet Danni down on the front walk – though I now meet her fully clothed, which caused some amusement the day after the first as I ran out, still tugging a shirt over my head. She always smiles, hugs me, plants a kiss on my cheek, tells me she loves me, and then walks away before I have the chance to say anything else. And she never looks back.

During the day, I either work (thankfully that strangely fashionable witch hasn't been back in yet) or lay around Gran's doing absolutely nothing. I guess I should be looking for a better job – I got enough N.E.W.T.s that I could probably find pretty decent employment – but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't know why, I just can't. Every time I start thinking about it something inside me just freezes against the idea.

Somewhere between three forty-five and four o'clock, Danni usually gets back from school and stops in for a couple hours. Usually she stays for supper, though sometimes she doesn't. She hasn't spoken a word about her mum or Craig since that first weekend she told me about them. She does a lot of talking about school – her friends, her teachers, her classes. She complains a lot about the workload and attempts to explain to me how the Muggle education system works. It only serves to confuse me, so after awhile she stopped trying. She talks a little about some of the guys at her school, and I find myself a tiny bit resentful of the blokes who get to see her all day, five days out of the week. I know I_ shouldn't_ feel that way because, technically, Danni and I aren't_ dating_.

That seems to be another taboo subject: Us. Danni avoids all discussion of whatever we are to each other. I don't blame her – it's not a comfortable topic – but I kind of wish we'd get it out of the way. What am I to her anyway? What do we tell people? Am I her boyfriend? What?

Another thing we rarely discuss is the baby. It's almost as though she thinks that by not talking about it, it will make it less real. Granted, you couldn't tell even a little bit just by looking at her that Danni is pregnant – she's as thin and in-shape as ever, and I highly doubt anyone would suspect such a thing. It's only been a few weeks after all. Still, I wish we could talk about it. The fact of the matter is, in just a little over seven months, we _are_ going to be parents, and so far we haven't discussed a single thing about how on earth we're going to support a kid.

Now, as I lie nearly upside down on the sofa in the living room, watching the television with my head hanging onto the floor, I turn with some difficulty to glance at the clock hanging on the wall. Three forty-seven. Danni should be home any minute now. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the door flies open and Danni practically dances into the room. She stops in the doorway and looks at me, cocking her head to one side and scrutinizing my position curiously. Then she lets out a tiny laugh.

"Why are you hanging off the sofa like that?" she asks in amusement, coming and sitting down beside me. I look up at her, craning my neck painfully to see her face. She's grinning down at me.

"I dunno actually," I say truthfully. "I was bored."

Danni holds out one hand to me, offering to pull me up. I take it and manage to half push myself up with her help. Swinging my legs over top of her, I shift into a more comfortable position.

"How was school?" I ask with mock-interest. She rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Stupid," she mutters. "It's as though all the teachers think they're the only ones who give out homework! I have _so_ much," she groans, swinging her bag to the floor. It lands with a loud _thump!_

"What did you do today?" asks Danni, glancing at the television.

"Pretty much this," I say with a rueful grin. "I didn't have to work today. Apparently Roberta hired another busboy, so I only have to work twice a week. I told her I could work more, but she told me I should be out looking for a real job and leave dishwashing to home-schooled kids who want some pocket money."

"_Have_ you been looking for a "real" job?" she asks gently. I fight against the sudden chill that ripples through me at that thought. I don't understand my reluctance to work any more than Danni or Gran does, but I can tell it irritates them both that I haven't found anything better than the coffee shop.

"I will, Danni, I promise," I say, not looking at her. She grabs my hands and I force myself to meet her gaze.

"Jake, we're going to need money in a few months," she says quietly, and I clench my jaw against the sudden onslaught of emotion: terror, anger, tension.

"I know," I whisper, squeezing her hands. "And I'll find a job, I promise. Okay? I will. We'll be okay."

Since we've already breached one unspeakable topic, I hesitantly venture at the other. "How … how are things at home?" I murmur. She pulls away, her expression shutting down completely, and I can tell things haven't gotten better.

"The same," she says stiffly.

"Have you told them yet?" I ask, and her guilty expression is answer enough. I know she's worried about what her stepfather will think, but she should at least tell her _mum_ about the baby. She won't be able to hide it forever.

"Danni…"

"I know, I know," she sighs. "I know I should tell them – my mum at least – but … I can't, Jake," she says, looking up at me anxiously. "She'll be _so_ disappointed in me. And Craig …" she shudders slightly, and I wrap an arm around her. She leans against me and sighs again.

"I hate it there," she murmurs.

"I know," I reply softly. "And you should get out of there."

"How?" she demands. "I can't just walk out – Craig probably wouldn't care, but Mum would call the police."

"If you just talked to her-"

"She wouldn't understand," Danni says stubbornly. "She would want me at home – she'd say it would be better for me – for the baby. And … I think she's scared of being left alone with him," she says, her voice lowering to a faint whisper. "I don't blame her," she adds quietly.

"Let's not talk about this anymore," she suggests after a few minutes of silence. She turns and peers up at me. "Let's do something."

"Like what?" I ask. "There's nothing to do."

Danni lapses into silence for awhile before her face brightens. She looks at me coyly. "You could explain something to me," she suggests with her eyebrows raised. I look at her in confusion.

"Explain what?"

"Quidditch?"

I stare at her. Why on earth would she want to know about Quidditch? "Why?" I ask.

Her expression becomes frustrated. "Because Mrs. P won't! I heard her mention it once and I asked her what it was and she refused to tell me! What's so terrible about it?"

"Nothing," I say with a chuckle, and she looks at me sourly. "Quidditch is a wizard sport. Played on broomsticks."

"Really?" she asks, intrigued now. I grin. "Broomsticks that _fly?_" she questions, looking slightly doubtful now. I nod at her.

"Fifty, sixty, seventy feet in the air," I add, and she gives me a dubious look.

"I thought that was some sort of myth – that witches fly on brooms."

"Hey, wizards fly on brooms too," I say indignantly, and she smiles. "I can prove it," I add, standing up and detangling myself from her. She follows me curiously into the kitchen where the _Daily Prophet_ is lying on the counter. I pick it up and open it with a dramatic flourish, and she giggles. I turn to the sports section and scan scores quickly – it's been awhile since I actually picked up a paper – and am pleased to see Ireland has only lost one game so far this season.

"We're going to a Quidditch game next weekend," I inform her, peering at her over the top of the paper. She looks at me in surprise.

"We are?"

"Yep. Ireland versus England."

"How are we going to get there?" she asks skeptically, and I grin at her. She looks at me slightly nervously.

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" I say, and she smiles uneasily.

"I guess so."

I lay the paper down on the counter again and take Danni into my arms again. "You'll love it," I assure her, and she smiles up at me.

"If you say so."

"I do."

She just grins and hugs me close pressing her cheek against my chest. I wonder why I've never noticed how tall she is. She's at least as tall as Skyla – her head reaches just past my shoulder, which is much more than Aria could say, being as short as she is. I rest my chin on the top of Danni's head and try to stop thinking about Aria. It won't do me any good. I squeeze Danni close and close my eyes.

"What's the matter?" she asks softly, and I sigh.

"Nothing," I murmur, lifting my head, opening my eyes, and looking down at her. I smile and hug her again. She continues to look concerned though.

"Jake, you can tell me," she says, reaching up and resting a soft hand against my cheek. I look at her standing there, looking up at me worriedly, and I lean forward and kiss her gently. She pulls back and looks at me in confusion.

"Jake, don't do that," she says rather petulantly. "Just tell me."

"I was thinking about how much shorter Aria is than you," I tell her bluntly, and a dark look flickers across her face at the mention of Aria. "And that's why I didn't tell you," I say softly, brushing hair from her face. "It's not important."

Danni sighs and looks up at me, biting her lip. She looks as though she's fighting an internal battle as she watches me, her eyes flickering uncertainly. Then she reaches up on her toes and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. "Tell me about Aria," she whispers, sinking back down onto her feet.

"Are-are you sure?" I ask her hesitantly. Every mention of Aria irks her, and I've been very careful over the last month or so to keep from mentioning her.

She nods, looking suddenly determined. "I think you need to talk about it, Jake," she says quietly.

x.x

Danni

We settle back onto the sofa in the other room, and Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stand up in odd tufts. I reach out and smooth it down, and he winces as though the gesture brings back a painful memory.

He starts talking. He starts by explaining the Floo Network, and then how Aria fell on him the first time they ever met. He tells me about her mum's strange reaction to him, and about Sean basically ruining their friendship. He tells me about their first year at Hogwarts, about Aria's mum dying, about that first summer and how hard it was for her.

He talks and talks and talks. I don't interrupt or ask any questions. He talks for more than an hour about Aria and how he fell in love with her. The way he talks about her makes me ache – it's so obvious he loves her. But I listen without complaint.

When he finishes he just sits there and stares at me. I try to read his expression, but it's just … blank. Dead, tired, emotionless. I reach for his hand, and he lets me take it.

"I'm sorry, Jake," I murmur, rubbing circles across his hand. "I didn't realize…"

He sighs and shakes his head. "Forget it, Danni. I'm sick of talking about it." I bite my lip and nod, and he gently extracts his hand from mine and slips an arm around my waist. I let him draw me close and lean his head against the top of mine. I can feel his jaw clench against my head, and I know he's fighting to keep calm.

"I miss her so much," he whispers, hugging me tight. I squeeze his arm, putting aside my own hurt for him.

"I know you do," I sigh. "But I has to get easier, doesn't it?"

"I sure hope so, Danni," he murmurs back. "Because this is hell."

I hug him close and raise my head. He looks down at me with a slightly distraught look in his eyes. I kiss him gently on the cheek and the shadow of a smile makes its way across his face.

"I love you, Jake. And I'm here for you," I tell him, knowing that right now he just needs someone to hold, and that's about all I can do for him now.

"Thanks, Danni," he whispers.

* * *

**A/N**: Ack, that was a terrible chapter. I had to rewrite it about a hundred times, and I had to cut out the beginnings of an entire subplot that was _going_ to play all the way through the story till the end, but I realized it didn't really work, and I didn't really _need_ another subplot, so I had to cut it out, and this chapter just _sucked!_ I hated it. I have the next chapter almost completely done, so I'll post it asap.

One other thing. I've gone back and completely edited the last twenty chapters. Not a lot has changed from what was originally written – I fixed a minor timeline problem I had. Also, Kay's hair is no longer blonde. I wrote her with blonde hair, but I keep imagining her with brown hair. So she has brown hair now. Sorry if that's confusing, but I was getting sick of writing one thing and imagining another, and I had to fix it. Almost all inconsistencies have been fixed throughout the story now, so it should read easier. Not to say that you have to go back and reread the entire story – not a lot has changed.

I have nothing interesting to say to you today (shocking, huh?). So I'll leave it here with this uncharacteristically short author's note. I don't have the energy to go back and reread the entire chapter before posting, so if there are any errors or anything please let me know and I'll fix them. Thanks! Please review!


	22. Different Ideas of Helpful

**A/N**: Thanks to my reviewers from last chapter! As promised, here is chapter 22 very soon after the posting of last chapter. And look! I posted _two! _Aren't you lucky?

Just a quick note, in case you read chapter 21 before it was edited – the Quidditch match is Ireland versus _England_ now. That's the only detail that needed fixing. Read on, my readers!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Different Ideas of Helpful**

Aria

It's been one month to the day since he held me. One month to the day since I begged him not to leave me. One month since he left. One month _to the day _since he told me he loves me. In the last month, my routine has been simple and consistent: get up, get dressed, eat, go to work, try not to let Drew, Kay, or anyone else notice how depressed I am, eat lunch, get through the rest of the day, come home, take a shower, sleep. I've been skipping dinner for at least two weeks now. I just can't sit there with Dad and Keira and Henry and pretend everything's alright. Because it's _not_.

Jake's going to be a father. To the child of a girl I've never met. He's probably going to marry her, and the three of them will live happily ever after _without me_. And I can't stand it.

Drew has been a good friend. He gives me my space when he knows I need it. He never asks me if I want to talk about it because he knows I _don't_. He doesn't ask me if I'm okay because he knows I'm _not_. He only tries his hardest to get a smile out of me, which sometimes works, on a good day. It's usually not a good day.

Before, I could get through the days and weeks and months knowing that Jake would be home someday soon, as soon as he found his dad. Of course, then I found out that he wasn't even _looking_ for his dad – he was bumming at his grandmother's house. He never thought to come back with _that_ sort of news – I would have liked to meet her. I bet she's a lot like him. She's probably funny, and sweet, and kind, and loving… And now he's not coming back. Ever.

Kay has tried to be patient with me, but I can tell I'm starting to grate against her nerves. I know she thinks I'm being selfish and childish – _she_ thinks Jake is doing the right thing. Actually the words she used were _responsible_ and _smart_ and _very adult of him_ and _selfless_. I told her exactly where she could stick those words of hers one day, and she wouldn't speak to me for nearly a week after that. I didn't care. I just threw myself into my work and ignored her right back.

This week, Kay has a new tactic – she's been trying to get me to talk about it. Every time she brings it up, Drew jabs her or stomps on her – one time he even hit her upside the head, which he hasn't done since because Kay got so mad that she hexed him right in front of Healer Renolds, who nearly died at her lack of "professional attitude" on the job – but that doesn't get her to shut up about it. I've gotten pretty good at tuning her out when she brings up, but this time, she says something I can't ignore.

"Aria, if you really loved him you would be proud of him for doing this," she says – rather snottily I might add – on the way to lunch one day. She neatly dodges Drew's arm, which snakes out to whack her, as I turn to her incredulously.

"_Proud _of him?" I ask, my voice high and loud, causing an older Healer to glance at me warningly as he passes us on his way upstairs. I wait until his footsteps fade before rounding on Kay again.

"Why would I be _proud_ that he _cheated on me_ and got some-some-" I fight really hard against the words I most want to spit out about _Danni_ "some _girl_ pregnant?" I finish after a few seconds, during which Kay looks at me as though daring me to voice my real thoughts.

"First of all," she begins, ignoring Drew slapping at her arm, "he didn't actually cheat on you because the two of you weren't dating – stop that Drew. Secondly, you should be _proud_ because he's putting what's best for her and the baby above what he probably wants more than anything – Drew, _knock it off_ – and that's to be with you. I've never met the guy, but from what Drew – _will you stop that? _– tells me, he obviously loves – _ouch,_ Drew!" Kay breaks off mid-sentence and turns to Drew. If looks could kill…

"Will you _leave her alone?_" Drew hisses, shooting a glance at me. When he sees me watching him, he looks away quickly. Kay glances toward me as well before turning back to him.

"She needs to hear it," is all she says before resuming her earlier spiel. "You should be proud that he's taking responsibility for what he did instead of running away from it like some people would."

I know she didn't mean it to do so, but her final sentence leaves a really strong impression on me, and it wounds me so deeply that for a few moments all I can do is stare at her. Then my senses return, and the anger I feel bubbling up is stronger than anything I've felt in the last month – stronger than the pain, stronger than the sorrow. On the other side of Kay, Drew paws at her arm again, a bit more nervously.

"Stop it," she snaps at him, turning toward me with a strangely satisfied little smirk on her otherwise pretty face. I want to punch her suddenly.

"Sometimes running away from your problems isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes something happens and it turns for the better because of it," I snarl at her, thinking of Mum and how if she'd never left Dad, he never would have met Keira, never adopted Sean or had Abby and Henry, and Jake never would have gone to live with them. It's obvious Kay can follow at least part of my train of though – I _have_ explained the circumstances under which I came to live with Dad – because she blinks at me before rolling her eyes.

"It obviously didn't work out too well for you mum though," she mutters, and I hear Drew choke at her boldness. "Look where she ended up."

That's what does it. It happens so fast I barely realize it's happening, but I reach out and quick as lightning, slap her so hard across the face that my hand stings when I'm done. Then, not feeling even the slightest twinge of remorse, I spin around and walk back the other way. It takes Drew all of five seconds to decide to follow me.

x.x

Drew

"You deserved that," I mutter to Kay, who, even though she has tears of pain in her eyes, doesn't look the slightest bit sorry for what she said. She obviously doesn't realize what a nerve she hit with Aria. She obviously doesn't understand that Aria has some serious issues when it comes to her mother, issues I'm not sure _Aria_ even realizes she has. I run after Aria – damn that girl's fast – who is already almost back to Wilifrom. When I finally catch up to her, she's standing outside the ward doors, her shoulders shaking.

Okay, yes, I have a huge crush on Aria. I'm not ashamed of it. And I want so badly to be able to comfort her, to pull her into a hug and let her cry on my shoulder the way Jake did so naturally with her. But the fact of the matter is, that no matter how strongly I feel toward her, the sight of her tears makes me enormously uncomfortable. I only have one brother, who's older than me; I have no sisters, and both of Matt's kids are boys.

The only experience I have with tears is whenever Kyle or Alec (Matt's boys) fall and hurt themselves and I have to patch them up, but those aren't the same. Those are very short-lived tears of minor pain and shock and surprise of hurting themselves. Or tears of anger when Kyle, who's a little rough with his younger brother, steals something of Alec's or hits Alec, or trips or tackles Alec. Then Alec bawls like there's no tomorrow. But Kyle apologizes almost instantly, and they're friends again in seconds.

What do I know about tears of heartbreak? Except that whenever I see Aria in such a state, _my_ heart breaks, just a little. Still, I don't know how to comfort her, and that makes me sad. I try though, I really do.

"Aria," I manage, laying a hand on her shoulder uncertainly. She turns toward me and looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks.

"I didn't mean to hit her," she whispers, sounding very much like a little kid. It's that – the childish, remorseful tone of her voice – that makes me take her in my arms. She stiffens – she does that now, whenever someone hugs her – and I let her go after a few more seconds. For the briefest second, a flash of hurt goes through her eyes as I pull away, and that confuses me.

If she didn't want me to let go, then why didn't she let me hug her to begin with? I'll admit it – girls confuse me. I've never been particularly good with them. To this day I don't understand what possessed me to flirt with Aria in the first place that first time I saw her. I guess I wasn't really planning on flirting with her. I mean, I was just going about my job. Just minding my own business. And suddenly, this tiny little firstie comes marching up to me, looking all determined and well, absolutely _gorgeous_ if I'm being honest with myself, and asks me exactly what she's been called to this ward for.

At first I was shocked. Why would Healer J call a firstie to her office? But then, when I found who she was – Aria _Granger_ holy Merlin, the daughter of _Hermione_ Granger! – I understood instantly. My first thought was, _That girl must have some serious talent if she's being called in here_. Of course, after that I remembered how Healer J and Healer Granger were rumored to have been really close friends. I tried really hard while Aria was in that office not to assume that she was going to get into the ward on that relationship with Healer J.

I wasn't disappointed. Aria's been working her temp hours here for about three months now – while on top of that keeping up with her classes – and she's one of the most talented people here. She's _really_ good at her job. She's great with the patients – especially little kids, who are always terrified at winding up in Wilifrom, since it _is_ after all, a major magical long-term injury and illness ward. Nothing like up in Spell Damage of course – our patients are all going to make it through whatever they have, no doubt about it – but it's still pretty intense stuff. And Aria's great at it. The patients – again, especially the kids – all love her.

Maybe it was just that she looked so feisty when she marched up to me, and then when I read her name on her tag, she looked so annoyed. It was … well, it was pretty hot actually. Whatever it was, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to be her friend. I suddenly wanted very much to get to know the _real_ Aria Granger, not the one whose name was whispered all throughout the hospital – usually with contempt – by the other trainees (but not the interns, who all believe themselves to above such childishness).

Either way, Aria seemed taken with me. She seemed to want my friendship as much as I wanted hers – though probably for entirely different reasons. _I_ wanted to know the real person behind the infamous name of Granger, but I suspect she was just lonely. Later of course I found out that it had only been a couple weeks since Jake had left, so that only confirmed my suspicions on the loneliness. Plus, I don't think she had any friends here before that – I'm pretty sure all the other trainees resented her good family name.

So whatever it was that possessed me to intercept her on her way out of Wilifrom that day, I'm glad I did it. Because even if she doesn't feel the same way I do – probably never will, I suspect – I love being her friend.

She's not so happy all the time, but I can live with that, because when she _is_ happy (or has close to happy as she can ever get without Jake), it's the sweetest, most wonderful time in the world. When she smiles – a true, beautiful smile that is so rarely seen these days – it lights up an entire room. I'm not exaggerating, and I know the cliché is overused and all that. But it's the truth. Aria spreads happiness everywhere when she smiles. And her laugh is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. Of course, I could be a bit biased. But the point remains.

Now however, as she stands there looking up at me, her face distraught and lonely, I realize something, and I hate it: Kay is right. (Damn her.) Aria needs to talk about this. She needs someone to vent to. She needs a shoulder to cry on. And as I realize this, another revelation washes over me, accompanied by a wave of sorrow so profound that it causes my chest to ache. I can't be that shoulder for her to cry on. She can't vent to me. Because she needs someone who knows how to hold her while she cries and not feel weird about it. Someone naturally good with girls like that. Someone like Jake. Or her brother.

Sean would probably make an excellent shoulder for Aria to cry on. But he's gone so much for his games – I know that's hard on Aria as well, who's hardly been apart from Sean for more than two days since she was twelve. I sigh softly before remembering that Aria is still standing in front of me.

"You okay?" I ask her at last, and a strange combination of annoyance and despair flits across her face before blanking out again.

"Fine," she mutters stiffly, turning and sweeping through the doors of Wilifrom. I watch her walk all the way down the ward and knock on Healer J's office door. A second later she disappears though it, just like she did that first day I ever saw her here. I sigh again. I'm a terrible friend.

x.x

Eva

I'm surprised when Aria sits down in the chair across the desk from me. Ron has been writing me frantic letters all month about how all she ever does is sulk around the house, and lately, how she hasn't been eating supper. He says she picks at her breakfast and won't even sit with them at the table in the evening anymore. I asked Kay the other day, and she said that Aria still eats lunch, though not much. Usually half a sandwich and a glass of tea or lemonade.

I can see what the lack of nourishment is doing to her. She's thin, and there are dark shadows under her eyes, which are red-rimmed and glassy. Her hair is lank – not greasy, but just lifeless and dull. Those beautiful blue eyes of hers have an estranged look to them that I don't like. I've been telling Ron that she just needs time – after all, I still remember the way Hermione was after she left him all those years ago, but eventually she put aside her pain for more important things – but seeing Aria in this state causes all my well-thought-out arguments for her to fly out the window.

Aria is in serious trouble here.

"Hey, sweetheart," I say gently, and her gaze flits back to me. The dead look in her eyes scares me. "What can I help you with?"

Her lip trembles slightly, and I see her suck her cheek between her teeth and clamp down on it to keep herself from crying. I wait patiently for her to regain her composure. When she finally speaks, the sound of her voice makes me ache.

"I dunno, Eva," she murmurs, her tone flat and lifeless, like her eyes, like her hair, like her posture. "I just don't know anymore."

I get up. Her eyes follow me warily and when I reach her side she stands and backs away from me, a warning flashing across her face.

"Don't," she manages before her eyes fill with tears, and then she's sobbing. I ignore her request. I step around her vacated chair and wrap my arms around her. She tenses and stands there motionlessly, but I don't give up. That's just what she thinks she wants. What she really wants is for someone to hold her and comfort her. What she _needs_ is a mother. No, what she needs is _her_ mother. And the portrait on my desk isn't good enough this time. This isn't a matter of fear of failure. This is something much, much worse.

This is what the heartbreak of losing true love looks like.

After almost two whole minutes of standing there stiffly, she unfreezes and her arms slip around me. I hold her while she cries into my shoulder. We stay like that for nearly five minutes more before she pulls back again and goes back to sit down in her chair. I perch on the edge of my desk and wait until she's finished wiping away her tears.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" I suggest. She shakes her head no a few times, but I just wait. I know if I give her enough time she'll open up. All it takes is patience, something I've had to have an abundance of since becoming a mum.

After several minutes of silence, save for Aria's occasional sniffle, she sighs, looks up at me, then fixes her eyes on the newest flower Maddie decided I had to take to work – a big orange tiger lily that she yanked out of the front garden last week for me.

"He's really gone, Eva," she whispers, still staring at the flower. "He's not coming back this time."

"I think he made the right choice, sweetheart," I say as gently as I can. She looks at me sharply, and I continue before she can interrupt. "Aria, love, listen to me. He's doing what's best. I know it hurts, sweetheart, but he's doing what's _right_. And I know you love him and you miss him, and trust me, I know how much it hurts, but you have to at least understand that what he's doing is right and responsible." Her face twists at the word 'responsible', and I already know it's because Kay has been lecturing her all week.

Kay's a good Healer, and a wonderful girl, but she has a little problem with sympathy. She's a great friend, and she wants to make Aria feel better, but she just doesn't understand how badly Aria is hurting right now. She doesn't seem to understand the fact that while Aria _does_ need to talk, lecturing her and throwing her own pain in her face isn't going to get her to open up.

"You know I'm right," I say softly, and her glare dissolves as tears well up again.

"I don't want you to be right," she whispers back. "I don't want him to be responsible. I want him to be selfish and childish and I want him to _come home_," she says, a sob tearing from her throat. I move to the arm of her chair and hug her again. She leans into me and cries for another five minutes straight.

"Sometimes I want to hate him," she whispers through her tears. "But I can't, because I love him so much." And then she's off again.

As I sit there holding my goddaughter, rubbing her back and stroking her hair and wishing I could bring Jake back for her, I try to remember exactly how Hermione was when I first met her.

Hermione was very shy and reserved when she applied for her first job here. It was hard for her – harder for her than for anyone else – because she hadn't finished Hogwarts yet, so on top of all her regular training classes, she had to take her N.E.W.T. classes for Healing – which old Healer Lanks, who retired just before Maddie was born, was kind enough to let her take in her off-hours.

We were friends almost instantly. I'd been home schooled, so I'd never gotten to go Hogwarts and watch from afar the amazing trio that was Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, but I'd read about them in the Daily Prophet after the war. Almost every week for a year there was something about them. I remember being so amazed that three kids _my age_ could possibly accomplish something so horrifying and difficult as defeating the darkest wizard of all time.

But when Hermione Granger – at that time nearly twenty years old – walked through the door of my class on minor injury treatments and quietly took a seat in the back as class started, I knew instantly who she was. And I wanted so badly to go over there and ask her for her autograph that I just about did it. Until I saw her face. She looked … exhausted. And scared, and lonely. So instead of asking her for her autograph, I got up, moved to sit beside her, and introduced myself.

It took a few minutes to convince her I didn't care that she was famous (okay, that was a lie, but I could tell she needed to hear it). But eventually she seemed to believe me – or she just got tired of listening to me talk, but either way.

At lunch, I invited her to come eat with me – funnily enough, in the same diner I happen to know Aria and her friends take lunch in every day. We talked some, and she seemed to open up to me. She confided in me that she had a daughter – only a few weeks old at the time – and she needed a job so she could move out of her parents' and get a place of her own. I asked her why Healing – which, by the way, doesn't pay so well until you become an actual intern – came to her mind first, and she shrugged and said she wanted to help people. I didn't mention then that she looked like she could use some help herself.

But we became fast friends. The next week she introduced me to baby Aria, who I fell in love with instantly. A few weeks after that, mostly due to my persistent pestering, she told me the entire story of how she fell in love with Ron – starting way back in her first year at Hogwarts when she overheard him declaring that she didn't have any friends because she was a stuck-up know-it-all. It took a few days of stolen conversation between classes and temping hours, but by the end of the week I knew the whole story.

The week after that was one of the hardest weeks of my life. After opening up so completely to me, Hermione was raw. She needed a friend more than ever, and I was there for her. But it was hard. None of my other friends – what few I'd had in the past – had ever had their hearts broken this way. And I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that it was her own stupid fault for leaving. To the day she died, I never told her that. I might not have been entirely truthful with her, but I'm a good friend, and good friends know when to keep their traps shut.

Which of course brings me back to Aria. And Kay. And how the stupid girl obviously _can't_ keep her mouth shut. Which isn't to say she's not a good friend – she's just slightly misguided. I wait until Aria's sobs have diminished again before speaking.

"Sweetheart," I start, and she sighs. I know she doesn't want to hear it. I know she's sick of crying, and she wants me to shut up so she can put her walls back up and go out and pretend like nothing's wrong. I know she just wants to throw herself into her work and put on a false face for everyone. But I can't let her do that just yet.

"I know, Aria. I know it hurts. I know you're sick of feeling this way," I tell her, but she interrupts.

"Then tell me how to _stop_ feeling this way!"

"I can't, love. These things take time. You can only heal as fast as you're willing to let yourself," I say, and she shakes her head at me.

"Well then that sucks, because I'm _never_ going to heal! I don't want to forget what it feels like when he wraps his arms around me. I don't want to forget what his voice sounds like when he says my name. I don't want to forget his smile, or the color of his eyes, or the way he smells right after he washes his hair. I _can't_ forget, Eva, I just can't," she whispers. "If I forget all those things, I might forget how to love him."

"Maybe that's for the best," I whisper back. She stands up, anger burning in her eyes.

"For the best? Eva, I _love _him!" she shouts. Out the window in the door, a frightened trainee pauses with wide eyes before hurrying away again. Aria doesn't even notice.

"I know you do, Aria. But you have to accept the fact that-"

"I don't _want_ to accept anything! I want him to come home! I want him to ditch that Danni girl and come home to me!_ I _love him, Eva! Not her! How could she ever love him the way I do? She's known him for three months, Eva, _three months!_ She probably doesn't even know his favorite color, or his favorite Quidditch team, or his favorite food. She probably doesn't know that when Jake was twelve he broke his arm because he thought he was Tarzan after I told him that stupid Muggle story and he tried swinging from an old rope tied to a tree, and the rope snapped and he fell onto a bunch of rocks with his arm pinned underneath him. I bet she doesn't even know when his _birthday_ is. So how could she _ever_ love him the way I do?!" she ends her little speech shouting again.

"She probably can't," I say as soothingly as I can. "But she needs Jake right now."

"And I _don't?!_" she shrieks, tears choking her voice again.

"Are you pregnant?" I ask matter-of-factly. She throws me a filthy glare, but falls silent again.

"She should get rid of it," she mutters darkly, throwing herself angrily into the chair again.

"Aria!" I scold in shock. She just glares up at me, daring me to continue. So I do. "How dare you say such a thing?! What right do you have to suggest that Jake _kill_ his unborn son or daughter?" I ask her angrily. She looks away from me sullenly, looking a lot like a little kid who knows she did wrong, but still wanted to argue about it, and got out-argued.

"That's right," I continue, still surprised she would suggest such a thing. "You don't have that right. The only person who has that right is the girl-"

"_Danni,_" she interrupts with a sneer, spitting the name out like it's something filthy.

"-Danni, then. The only person who has that right is Danni, and even then I bet Jake would have some colorful words for her on the subject."

She turns to me again, the anger gone again. "I really just wish I could hate him, Eva," she murmurs.

"I know, sweetheart." We're both silent for awhile before I see one of my interns outside the door. He knocks hesitantly, eyeing Aria warily, but I nod at him and the door opens. Aria stiffens and sits very still with her back to him.

"What can I help you with, Chase?" I ask of the uncertain intern in my doorway. He clears his throat nervously, glances at Aria again, and bites his lip.

"Uh … Healer Renolds is looking for you, Healer J," he says. I nod at him again and he retreats hastily.

"Aria, go home," I sigh at her. She looks up in surprise. "Go home, _eat something_, take a hot shower, and don't come back to work until you've gained five pounds," I say seriously, looking at her thin body with concern. She looks at me in outrage.

"You're serious?" she asks incredulously.

"You need to eat, Aria. You're going to get sick if you don't. Tell your father that you're not allowed back on the premises of this hospital until you're healthy-looking again. You're worrying the other workers here, and I can't have them walking on eggshells around you when you're all supposed to work together. So _go home_. And if you don't tell your dad, I'll go over there myself and tell him," I say sternly. She glares at me again.

"Five pounds," I remind her before leaving the office to see what grumpy old Healer Renolds wants now.

x.x

Aria

I can't believe Eva. I go to her for comfort and she lectures me and tells me not to come to work – the one place I can actually forget for awhile – until I _gain five pounds!?_ Is the woman mental? I Apparate home angrily.

Keira looks up in surprise when I storm into the kitchen. She's just starting lunch for Henry - and herself I assume.

"What's wrong?" she asks, seeing my face. I just glare at her before stalking off to Dad's study.

"No need for that attitude, missy," she calls after me. "And don't bother your dad. He's in a meeting."

I stop, knowing Dad would kill me if I interrupted him while he had a visitor from work, heave a sigh, and turn around and stomp back into the kitchen, where I throw myself angrily into a chair.

"What's the matter?" asks Keira, her indignity at my attitude gone now. She abandons the counter and sits down across from me. I sigh again.

"Eva suspended me," I say angrily. It's technically true. "And for no good reason," I add, which is _not_ technically true.

"What was her reason?" Keira asks patiently. Suddenly I want to hit her too, a lot harder than I slapped Kay, but I refrain. Kay will probably forgive me, but Keira would be extremely pissed and would probably make me move out or something.

I roll my eyes. "She says I can't come back to work until I gain five pounds," I say as lightly as I can, in one of those 'can-you-believe-this' tones. Keira doesn't smile or laugh or even look annoyed. She scrutinizes my face for a few seconds before answering.

"You _are_ awfully thin, honey." That does it.

I jump up, my anger sparking uncontrollably. I want to lash out at her, slap her across the face, _really _hurt her. "I'm fine!" I shout. "Why does everyone keep trying to control me? Why can't you all just _leave me alone?_ I'm not anorexic or anything! I _do_ eat! Just because I've lost a couple of pounds doesn't mean I'm going to wither away into nothing! Honestly, what is everyone's _problem?"_

"Aria, _you're_ the only one with a problem," a voice says from behind me. I turn to see Sean standing in the doorway with Dad behind him, and I look at them incredulously for a few seconds before rounding on Keira again.

"You told me he was in a _meeting!_" I screech at her.

"He was. He and Sean were discussing something very important," Keira says sternly. I roll my eyes.

"Sure, right, whatever. Don't go see Dad – he's too busy talking to _Sean_ about something _important_," I sneer at her, and she stands up as well.

"Aria, don't you take that tone with me," she scolds, and I scowl at her.

"_Aria don't you take that tone with me,_" I mimic cruelly. Her eyes widen in disbelief. I haven't been this rude to her since I was eleven. She opens her mouth to reply, but Dad cuts her off.

"Don't, Keira," he sighs wearily. "Don't take the bait. Aria, come with me."

I sneer at her one more time before Dad comes forward and wraps one large hand around my arm and drags me away. Sean is already sitting in the office again, and Dad shuts the door behind us with a snap.

I wrench myself out of his grasp and sit down on the couch, managing to elbow Sean very painfully in the ribs in the process. In instinctive retaliation, his arm snaps out and he punches my leg – _hard_. Sean's never hit me seriously before, and the feeling of betrayal that envelopes me causes me to reach out and slap him across the face – not as hard as I slapped Kay – and Sean grabs my wrist and twists it.

"Cut it out!" Dad snaps, and Sean releases me, looking royally pissed. I turn away from him and look up at Dad expectantly.

"Aria, stop it, okay? Just stop it. I know you're hurt and angry, but you _cannot_ take it out on the people in this house, do you understand me? Now, I want you to sit there and think about that while I go clean up the mess you left in the kitchen," he says with a very angry look at me before leaving the den again. It takes me a few seconds to realize that the 'mess' he's talking about isn't a literal one. Through the open door I can hear Dad talking softly to Keira, and I feel proper shame at having lashed out at her like that.

"You're a right brat you know that?" Sean says darkly, rubbing at his cheek. I can tell he's very forcefully refraining from using more colorful adjectives.

"Yeah, and you're an arse," I reply.

"No, I'm not," he says seriously. When I open my mouth to inform him that I'm going to have a huge fist-shaped bruise on my thigh for the next two weeks, he cuts me off.

"You deserved that," he says seriously. My mouth falls open in outrage. No I did not!

"You know you did," he continues. "Because you're acting like a three-year-old. A spoiled rotten three-year-old who thinks the world is a horrible place when it's not going exactly the way little miss princess wants it to go. So why don't you _shut up_ for five minutes and stop feeling sorry for yourself long enough to see that you're maybe not the only person in this world who misses Jake?!"

I stare at him. I hadn't realized. Of course not. I've been so wrapped up in my own little pity-party that I didn't even think about the fact that Sean's known Jake much longer than I have – they're practically brothers. It has to be just as hard on him. _Except he doesn't _love_ him. Not like I do._

"Gee," I say sarcastically, not quite able to let go of my bitterness just yet, "I didn't realize you were in love with Jake too. Thanks for coming out of the closet, big brother."

"Shut up you spoiled little brat! You're still doing it! Yes, you're in love with him. Yes, he was your best friend. Yes, he was stupid and slept with some other girl. But he was _my_ best friend too, Aria! He's like a brother to me! So yeah, I guess I do love him in a way, because he's _always_ been here, as long as I can remember living in this house, he's been here. How do you think I feel, knowing I might not ever see him again?!" he shouts. A few seconds later Dad appears in the doorway again.

"Sean," he says softly. Sean sets his jaw angrily and stops talking, but I can tell he's still really, really mad at me. I feel bad for acting so childish all of a sudden. I reach out, put my hand on my brother's arm, and he slaps it away irritably.

"Now who's being childish?" I mutter, and he sighs loudly before taking my hand and holding it tight.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. I turn to look at him and carefully extract my fingers from his grip.

"Me too," I sigh. "You're right – about everything. I'm really sorry, Sean. I shouldn't have said all that."

"I'm not the only one you need to apologize to," he reminds me, nodding out toward the kitchen. Dad nods approvingly, and I stand up.

Keira glances at me with a blank face when I enter the room. She's gone back to fixing lunch.

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "Sean's right. I'm acting like a spoiled little brat, and it's wrong of me. Please forgive me. I shouldn't have acted that way, and I'm sorry, Keira," I say sincerely, going up and standing right beside her. She looks at me and sighs.

"Aria, I love you, you know that right?" she asks, and I nod at her. "I just want you to be happy, sweetheart."

"Good luck with that one," I sigh, gritting my teeth against the sudden tears again. She pulls me into a hug and holds me for a few seconds. I rest my forehead against her shoulder and concentrate on not crying.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you, honey," she murmurs, rubbing my back. I wrap my arms around her and hug her back. "I know how much it hurts. I know what it feels like to have your heart broken. But you have to have hope. I found your dad, didn't I? I got a second chance. I have to believe you will too, Aria. I have to believe that you'll find someone else. And maybe it won't be exactly the same, but you know what? If I've learned anything from all these years with your dad, it's that you can love two people, one exactly as much as the other, for entirely different reasons, and be okay with that."

I have to work harder against the tears now that she's talking about my mum. I hug her close, clinging to her, wishing she was my mum, but glad at the same time that she's Keira, who has loved me unconditionally from the moment I could open my eyes and see that she didn't want to _replace_ my mum – she just wanted to love me. So I let her.

"You're going to be okay," she murmurs, hugging me back just as tightly. "Someday you'll find someone who can make you happy."

"What if I already have?" I whisper.

"Oh, Aria," she sighs, releasing me and holding me at an arm's length. She smiles gently, kisses my forehead, and goes back to making lunch. She didn't answer my question, but I can guess what she would have said. Something about second chances, I'm sure.

With a sigh I head back to the study where my fate awaits me.

x.x

Sean

I can tell she doesn't like the idea at first. I can tell she wants nothing _less_ than to spend the afternoon in the sunshine amongst thousands of screaming Quidditch fans. However, I can tell it's exactly what she _needs_.

"Come on, Aria. I know you wanted to have a go with the Chasers. And you didn't even stick around to meet them last time," I remind her. She's been to two Ireland games so far this summer – only one of which I was playing in – but both times she claimed she had to go before she could meet the other people on my team.

"You can watch us warm up – you can warm up with us even! And I bet Al would love to see you again – you were his little protégé back in Hogwarts, remember?" I get a sliver of a smile from her at the mention of our Quidditch Captain in school when we were third and fourth years. She pretty much idolized him when we were younger, and I think she always thought of him as some sort of celebrity or something. Still, I know she'd like to see him.

"I guess so…" she says hesitantly, but I know I've already hooked her with the idea of seeing Al again.

"And we're playing England! Karen's boyfriend plays for England, remember? So she'll probably be there, and I bet you can see her," I say as I realize this. She smiles a bit more. I know she and Karen were never best mates or anything, but they're still friends, however distantly.

"You know you want to…" I say insistently.

"Oh, alright," she says with a fondly annoyed smile at me. I grin at her, and Dad smiles approvingly over her head. I know how worried everyone is about her. I'm worried too. Yeah, I miss Jake – and okay, I lost my temper a little bit earlier – but Dad's right. In the last month she's gotten way thin. I can wrap an entire hand around her wrist now and touch my thumb to my pinky finger. Granted, she was already tiny, and I am a lot bigger than her, but it scares me how skinny she is. And how gaunt her face looks. The dark shadows under her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks. I'm afraid for her.

Dad wants her to get out and do something normal. He wants her to have fun. Poor guy. He's been heartbroken before, doesn't he remember how it felt? Maybe not. Or maybe it's just different for guys. I mean, Jake's probably pretty heartbroken too, but he has that Danni girl to think about, plus the baby coming in a few months. Not only that, he knows that he did the right thing. And he probably misses Aria like crazy, but he knows that the decision he made was the one he had to make. At least, that's what I think he knows. Or else he would never have left her.

I try to think about what I'd do if I was heartbroken. I dunno. I've never been in love. Yeah, I had a crush on Skyla in school – part of me is still a little bit jealous of Aiden even, and I kind of wish I would have just sucked up my pride and asked her out once I realized I liked her as more than a friend after all – but love? Scary place, those uncharted waters of love. Not for me. Not yet anyway.

Aria and Jake though … they've been in love for Merlin knows how long. They didn't _realize_ it of course for awhile. I think Aria started coming around to the idea that summer before she turned fifteen when all four of us (Jake, Aria, and me, plus Skyla, who started staying summers with us after second year when she finally convinced her dad to let her) were at the swimming hole one day.

I'm not really sure what happened between them that day – I was too busy chasing Skyla around with a bucket of water to notice them – but from what I've heard from the bits and pieces each of them was willing to share with me, they were wrestling or something equally normal for them back then, and she landed on top of him and it was just suddenly very awkward. Of course, that was the same summer Aria actually started looking like a real girl – not that I _looked_ at her or anything, I mean she is my _sister_. That would have been just plain wrong.

But of course I noticed – she was also _acting_ a lot girlier and was suddenly very giggly and interested in clothes, much to my chagrin. I'd always considered her to be one of the guys when we hung out with the Quidditch team – granted, there were other girls on the team, but they were tomboys too – and suddenly she was all … _weird._ Like this alien species I couldn't communicate with anymore.

Anyway, that's when Aria started realizing it. Jake, idiot that he was back then, didn't understand the awkwardness, just knew it felt weird. It took him nearly the whole year at school to figure out why he wanted to rip off Lance – a Ravenclaw a year ahead of us who had dated Aria for a couple of months before she decided it wasn't really working out – Smith's face every time he smiled at Aria. I mean, of course he knew he _fancied_ her and everything, but having a crush on someone would not constitute the extreme jealous behavior Jake portrayed that year.

He spent the entire summer before sixth year telling me every tiny thing he noticed about her – things I'd always noticed and didn't really care about – like how she rolled her eyes and grinned at the same time whenever we'd tackle each other for no good reason (like this one time when Jake went all mental on me because I told him his socks didn't match) or how her laugh somehow resembled the sound of wind chimes, only _not_ (Jake's words, but they're true enough), or how her eyes _sparkled_ when she laughed. It was enough to make any man sick. The kid was smitten.

So of course after that they danced around each other endlessly, flirting unconsciously and insisting the other wasn't _flirting_, they were just acting the way the always did (I didn't point out to them at the time that they'd _always_ flirted with each other, and that was why it seemed normal to them – they wouldn't have believed me anyway). It drove me nuts seeing them so obviously in love (if not love, then very, _very_ smitten with one another) but so blind to it. I couldn't convince either one of them to make the first move, and they both swore me to some sort of brother-best-friend-confidentiality so I couldn't just _tell_ them that they both felt the same way about each other. Enough to drive any sane person crazy.

Anyway, I've never been in love like that. So I can't relate. But I'd like to think that if I was ever heartbroken, I'd move on as well as I could, depending on exactly _why_ I was heartbroken. I mean, if some girl I liked (okay, _loved_, as long as we're going there), but wasn't dating, not at all, went and slept with some other guy and got pregnant, I couldn't exactly hold it against her could I? And if she chose to stay with that guy for her baby, who would need both a mum and a dad, I couldn't resent the other guy could I? Okay, not exactly the same, because _my_ mum was pregnant with me and my dad adopted me and treats me exactly the same as Aria, Abby, and Henry, and I guess if I really loved the girl I could do that too, but still.

I'd like to think that I'd try to be happy for her, or at least know she made the right decision. But like I said, I've never been in love, so I wouldn't know.

"So, are we going or what?" asks Aria, who I realize now has been staring at me for the last few minutes expectantly. I smile at her.

"Let's go," I say. So we do.

* * *

**A/N**: Dun, DUN, DUNNN! Uh-ohh! Nothing else to say – please review!


	23. An Unfortunate Encounter

**A/N**: Read on, my friends and fans! Read on!**

* * *

**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: An Unfortunate Encounter**

Aria

Sean and I apparate to the stadium – and smack into the center of a huge argument between the players of the Ireland Quidditch team. All of the girls on the team (one of the Chasers, the Seeker, and the Keeper) are screaming unintelligibly at all of the boys (the remaining Chaser besides Sean, and both of the Beaters) who are screaming right back while the alternates and subs are standing between them, looking back and forth with interest as though following a tennis match.

Sean jumps right in as soon as he evaluates the situation. "Wait, wait, _WAIT _a second!" he yells, holding out his hands. The team falls silent and a few of the sub players send him dirty looks for putting an end to their entertainment.

"_What_ is going on here?" Sean demands. I'm actually surprised that everyone is listening to him, considering he's the youngest player on the team and all. But he has everyone's attention, and they're all revering him with utmost respect.

At his question, everyone bursts into explanation, pointing fingers (literally) and yelling again. Sean makes a very exasperated noise.

"STOP!" he yells, and they all fall silent again. For a moment I wonder if he somehow got promoted to Captain and never bothered to tell me. But one glance at Allan Jargan shows his tiny gold _Captain_ pin glinting against the green of his Quidditch robes. Which still doesn't explain why everyone is so respectful of Sean.

"Al," he says, addressing his Captain, "will you _please_ tell me what's going on here and _why_ you haven't put a stop to it already?" Al at least has the decency to look ashamed of himself as he starts an explanation.

"Well, we were actually.…" he trails off, his eyes suddenly shifting to me. A small smile graces his features, and suddenly nine or ten pairs of eyes are looking my way. I feel myself blush at all the attention, not being accustomed to being singled out since the end of the school's Quidditch season in June.

"Well, well, well," says Al, moving toward me now. He slings a friendly arm around my shoulders, practically strangling me, and as uncomfortable as that makes me, he doesn't move away when I stiffen. "Did you finally decide to ditch that nasty old hospital for a _real_ career?" he asks jokingly, but irritation flits through me at his easy dismissal of the job that I've come to love, and I pull away from him.

"My job _is_ a real career," I inform as well as I can without totally snapping at him. "More so than _this_ anyway," I add in an undertone, but he catches it, and worry and confusion sweep through his expression.

"It was a joke, Aria," he says softly.

"Well, it wasn't very funny," I say stubbornly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sean eyeing me with concern, and I shoot him a dark look. He just raises his eyebrows and looks away.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Al says sincerely. I shrug, suddenly feeling stupid for making such a big deal about it.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," I mutter, suddenly feeling very embarrassed by the whole ordeal. "Really," I say, looking up at him and attempting a smile, which he returns in a slightly confused manner.

"So … what were you all arguing about now?" I ask hesitantly, glancing back at the rest of the team, who are still eyeing me curiously, though trying to be discreet about it (and not succeeding very well). Al rolls his eyes.

"The _girls_ think it would be best to update the uniforms, because according to them, they're _out of style_. Out of style? These robes are classic! There _is_ no other style! Everyone knows this. _All_ of the teams _everywhere_ wear robes _exactly_ like these!" he says incredulously, his voice rising until he's practically shouting. One of the girls (I think she's the Keeper) strolls over to join the conversation.

"Which is _exactly_ why we should update them! How _boring_ to be just like everyone else! We should break away and create our own style!" she says enthusiastically. I figure now would not be the best time to point out that she _does_ kind of have a point there – the robes _are_ kind of boring.

"But what does style matter when you're playing Quidditch? It shouldn't _matter_ what you're wearing, because the game isn't about what you _look_ like – it's about playing for the love of the sport and hopefully winning. Who _cares_ if your robes look just like everyone else's? The fans don't come to look at what we're wearing, they come for the game!" Al exclaims, and I remember suddenly that this is what makes him such a great Captain – he's very passionate about the game, if nothing else.

"Well, I just think it would be a nice change," the girl says with a shrug. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal about it, really. If you didn't like it, you just had to say so," she says slightly coldly, though her tone has an undercurrent of hurt in it. Al gives her an incredulous look.

"I _did_ just say that! And you started yelling at me!" he exclaims, throwing his hands into the air.

Sensing another argument mounting, I slip away and join Sean where he's talking to everyone else. When he spots me at his side, he beams and wraps an arm around me. I don't pull away from him. Sean's my brother, and his embrace puts me at ease almost instantly. I smile hesitantly at the other team members gathered around.

"Everyone, this is my sister Aria," he says with a grin, squeezing my shoulder. They smile back at me invitingly, for the most part.

"We've heard a _lot_ about you," one of the other girls – the Chaser? – says with a teasing smile at Sean. "You're all he ever talks about," she adds in a stage whisper. I glance up at the brother in question to see if this is true. He grins sheepishly.

"Well, you _are_ amazing at Quidditch," he tells me, and I roll my eyes fondly.

"Yeah, we heard you were voted number one teenage player in the country last year," one of the Beaters says with an impressed tone. I shrug modestly, not liking the feeling of having all eyes on me one bit, suddenly hyperaware of the way my once form-hugging clothes all but hang off my frame. Eva and Keira are right – I haven't been eating enough.

"Has Sean been lying to us?" one of the alternates ventures to suggest. I look at her, feeling slightly insulted and wondering if that was her intent. From the look on her face, I'd say it was.

"What do you mean?" I ask, raising my chin at her, just daring her to say it aloud.

"Well, I've heard of Aria Weasley, but the truth is, Weasley's a pretty common name, and maybe it's just a coincidence that you have the same name as _her_. Because I can't imagine that only three months or so without practice would really look like …_that_," she says cruelly, waving a hand at my appearance. I feel my cheeks flush, and I know she's right. I can't even muster up proper indignity that she would assume such a thing. And I don't bother to point out to her that Weasley is only a common name because my father has _five _brothers, and that any Weasley she's ever met is probably related to me.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sean demands, suddenly letting go of me and grabbing the girl by her arm. I see her wince in pain at his strong grip.

"Well, I can't be the only one thinking it!" she exclaims. "Look at her! She looks like she can barely stand upright, let alone throw enough goals to be the number one goal-scorer in the country!"

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she's-" he stops talking, his eyes suddenly cutting to me. I can guess what he would have said. '…maybe she's sick?' or '…maybe she's not _all there?_' I look away, pretending to suddenly be very interested in the stadium around us.

"Maybe she's … what?" the girl dares to ask, though her voice is lower, quieter, as though she thinks I can't hear every word.

"Never mind," Sean says gruffly, releasing her and shoving her away. She stumbles back but doesn't comment, simply rubbing her arm where he'd grabbed it and watching me curiously. I avoid everyone's gazes, knowing they're all wondering what could possibly take the number one student goal-scorer in the country and turn her into _me_ in the frame of three months, give or take a couple weeks.

"Hey, you," Al says, coming up behind me and grabbing me round the neck again. I squirm slightly, but he doesn't let go, and I end up twisting even closer to him, suddenly finding myself pressed very closely to his side. I stiffen at the close contact, but he just goes right on talking like he doesn't even notice.

"So, you gonna show all these pansies up, or what?" he asks with a chuckle, and I'm met with several offended and indignant expressions, and two or three very skeptical ones. I smile up at Al uncertainly.

"I'm a little out of practice," I admit softly, and he laughs some more.

"Nonsense – I'm sure you're still awesome. Go on – show us what you've got. Prove yourself to be the amazing Aria Weasley," he says, and suddenly he's shoving a broom into my hands and releasing me, and everyone is looking at me expectantly. Swallowing nervously, not at all used to having to prove anything to anyone when it comes to Quidditch, I swing one leg over Al's top-of-the-line _Stormbreacher 800_ – the same model as my own broom, which has been collecting dust in the closet all summer.

Sean and the remaining Chaser – one of the few girls in the group who so far hasn't looked at me with contempt, though she does look slightly disbelieving of my abilities – follow suit, and we all kick off into the air.

I do some zigzags to reacquaint myself with the very responsive broomstick under me. It might be the same model as mine, but it's longer and slightly thicker, probably due to the fact that it's specially made for professional Quidditch, and the fact that Al is a lot taller and heavier than I am. It takes me a minute or two to get a real feel for it, and I can feel the eyes of everyone on the pitch below, as well as my brother and the other Chaser, the last of which takes off for a lap around the stadium for a warm up after a minute of waiting.

Sean sidles up to me, a smile on his face. "You have no idea how great it is to see you smile like that," he says. I look at him in surprise, not having realized I was smiling to begin with. I grin at him again though, and he looks relieved.

"Race you!" he calls, suddenly zooming away after his fellow Chaser. I grin and speed after him, catching up almost instantly, but having a difficult time passing him on a heavier broom than I'm used to. I grin over at him and stretch myself even further out, practically lying flat. He grins back and does the same.

We end up back where we started in a tie, but we don't bother spending time debating a winner or demanding rematches. I'm content to be just as good as Sean, and for now at least, he seems to feel the same way. The Chaser – I still don't know her name – is waiting by the goal posts, lightly tossing a Quaffle back and forth between her hands, balancing on her broom without holding on, which isn't exactly the hardest thing to do, but still pretty impressive. We fly over to her, and she throws the ball instantly to Sean, who catches it deftly and passes it back. I watch with interest as they throw it back and forth for a minute or so, before Sean suddenly and without warning shoots it toward me.

It sails straight past my face, and I stare at it for a second or two as it falls toward the earth before snapping out of my trance and diving after it. I barely manage to scoop it up before it hits the ground, and I shoot back toward Sean and the currently nameless Chaser.

"A little out of practice," Sean teases as I toss it back. I grin and roll my eyes.

"I've been _working_ all summer," I remind him as he throws it to me again – this time I catch it easily.

"Me too," he says, throwing the Quaffle back at his teammate. She catches it and tucks it under one arm.

"We need a Keeper up here!" she calls down. Five seconds later – I'm not even exaggerating – the team Keeper is hovering beside me. I recognize her as the girl who argued with Al over the robes just a few minutes ago.

"I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier," she says to me. "I'm Lecksi – spelled L-E-C-K-S-I and don't forget it," she says mock-sternly, and I cock my head at her.

"That's an odd way to spell Lexi," I say, and she grins.

"Blame my parents for spelling "Alexis" A-L-E-C-K-S-I-S," she says with a roll of her eyes and a smile. Lecksi then flies off and posts herself in front of the goals, a sudden, very determined expression making her previously friendly face hard.

"Ready for this?" Sean calls over to me. I nod, glancing at the unknown Chaser to see her nodding too.

We start off easy – throwing the Quaffle back and forth at a mind-numbingly slow pace, and I can tell right off that Sean's teammate is annoyed. But he's patient with me as I slowly get back into the feel of Quidditch. It doesn't take very long to remember how good the Quaffle feels in my hands.

After about five minutes of simple passing while flying back and forth, Sean picks up the pace, suddenly becoming a green-and-gold blur as he speeds by while also spiraling, throwing the Quaffle straight at me mid-spiral. I barely manage to catch it at the pace I'm going – which, in all honesty isn't very fast at all, but still not a complete snail's pace. I can see the other Chaser just passing below me, and I drop it right into her arms instantly. She zooms by and scores a goal, barely making it past Lecksi's fingertips.

"Nice one!" the Chaser calls to me. I smile at her tentatively as she flies up toward me.

"I'll admit," she says a bit sheepishly as she reaches me. "I thought you'd be kind of useless, but you're just a little rusty. We have to warm up now for the real game, but if you stick around afterwards, I bet Al would let us fly around together some more – we could even scrimmage I bet – there are enough of us. What do you say?" she asks hopefully. I smile at her bald enthusiasm.

"I'd say … What's your name again?" I ask with a grin, and she laughs.

"Maya. And say you'll stick around afterwards and play with us. Please?" she asks. I grin.

"Sure. I'd love to."

"Great! But now … well, I'm sorry, but Al really needs his broom back," she says apologetically. I smile and start easing down to the pitch again, where the others are all eyeing me, though whether with approval or not, I can't tell from most of their expressions. Al, however, is smiling warmly as I land.

"You're right – a bit out of practice. But I wouldn't call you completely useless," he says with a teasing grin as I hand his broomstick back. I smile gratefully.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your broom," is all I say to him though. He grins.

"Any time. It's good to see you, again, Aria," he says sincerely, but from the way he lets his gaze sweep the length of my body, and then wrinkles his brow, I can tell he notices how thin I am from not eating. I wrap my arms around my ribs self-consciously and cast him an uneasy smile.

"I should go find my seat," I manage before retreating hastily. I go over to Sean, who followed me down. He grins and pulls a ticket out of a pocket and hands it to me.

"It's not a box seat," he apologizes, rubbing the back of his head and looking slightly embarrassed. "I can't actually get you those for free. But it's still fairly decent," he assures me. I smile up at him.

"I don't need a box seat, Sean," I tell him, and he smiles at me.

"Well, I have to get going, but enjoy the game," he says, giving me a quick hug before mounting his broom again and kicking off to join his teammates for the official warm-up. I make my way off the field just as the English team arrives at the opposite end of the pitch, and all of the Ireland players zoom off to greet them.

x.x

Sean

As we fly down the pitch to meet up with our opponents, Al slides up beside me and gives me a meaningful look. I slow down and drop back to hear what he has to say. In the last three months, I've noticed that Al counts on me a lot, and while that makes me nervous beyond belief, it's kind of nice to be appreciated, being the youngest guy on the team and all.

"What's up?" I ask as we fall even further behind the others, who are already landing near the gate England's entering through.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he says in a worried tone. "Aria …" he trails off, biting his lip and shooting me furtive glances. I sigh; I should have known. It's not like I resent Al for it, but he's _always_ paid special attention to Aria – even back when we were third years and Aria was just this runt of a Chaser with uncanny speed (I've always considered the fact that we got on the team as second years sheer dumb luck due to the fact that all the good players had graduated the year before). It's actually thanks to Al that Aria's as good as she is – or was three months ago anyway. As second years we made the team – and we were pretty good as far as second years go – but we barely scraped by with the Cup that year.

It's never particularly bothered me that Al considered Aria his little protégé – I mean, look at how Aria favored Liz last year; every Captain has a favorite – and his concern now is perfectly viable, but it irritates me for a reason I can't explain. Maybe it's just that it's an awfully personal thing to talk about for her, and I don't exactly feel comfortable with having someone – even a friend as good as Al has been to me – outside the family sticking their nose into our business.

"Sean?" Al asks now as we slowly drift downwards. I spot Karen Vemborrow from Hogwarts attached at the hip to Keeper Luke Reiley's side and chatting amiably with Maya and Lecksi. I glance at my Captain and sigh.

"Aria's going through a rough time right now," I answer him. His probing gaze shows me that this wasn't an adequate answer. "She's just … really unhappy," I mumble. Al opens his mouth – to ask another question, I'm sure – but Karen spots me right then, and a big grin spreads across her face.

"Hey, Sean!" she calls, waving me over. I throw an apologetic look at Al before going over to join the conversation.

"Hey, Karen, looking good," I tease, and she laughs.

"You too," she says in a sarcastic way that makes me grin. As much of a pain as she can be sometimes, it's nice to see her again. I hadn't realized how much I missed everyone from Hogwarts before now.

"Is your boyfriend here ready to have his butt whipped by us today?" I ask, and she rolls her eyes playfully.

"I'm pretty sure you're mistaken about whose butts are getting whipped," she says confidently. I just raise my eyebrows at her in an 'Oh-really' expression, and she smirks.

"Well, as touching as this little reunion is, we really should get on with our warm-up," Al says from behind us, and we all pull back from the English team. As the rest of my team mounts up, I notice Luke glancing at me warily. Karen notices too and shoves his arm gently.

"Luke, this is my friend Sean from Hogwarts, remember? We played Quidditch together for years. Sean, I've told you about Luke," she introduces us. I smile at Luke, and he nods curtly, still eyeing me suspiciously. Karen rolls her eyes at me, stands up on tiptoes, whispers something in his ear and kisses his cheek. He gives her a reluctant smile.

"Sean, get your arse up here!" Al yells suddenly from above us. I grin.

"Nice meeting you, Luke. It was great to see you again, Karen," I say to them. Luke smiles slightly and Karen grins as I kick off and join my team in the air for our warm-up.

x.x

Jake

Saturday morning I awake to a persistent rapping on my bedroom door. I groan loudly at the sudden noise, and the door flies open to reveal Danni standing there glaring at me.

"_What_ are you doing in bed?" she demands, marching over to my side and standing above me with her hands on her hips. I groan again and peer up at her groggily.

"What time is it?" I mumble, rolling over and groping for the clock. I spot it lying on the ground half under the bed. Before I can reach it, Danni answers my question.

"Almost noon!" she snaps, and I jerk upright in surprise. Dizziness descends and I shake my head to clear it.

"How on earth did I manage to sleep till noon?" I wonder aloud, since the last time I even came close was the morning of the Quidditch final last June. Danni just sighs loudly and crosses her arms.

"I have been waiting downstairs since nine o'clock, you know!" she says as I climb out of bed and dig around for some clean clothes. Gran took it upon herself a few weeks ago to buy me more Muggle clothing than I could possibly ever need. I throw a clean shirt and a pair of pants on the bed, and I hear Danni's disbelieving noise behind me. I turn to see what her problem is now.

"That doesn't match," she informs me, pointing. I look at her in confusion.

"It looks fine," I say, and she shakes her head.

"No. It does not," she says matter-of-factly, taking the shirt and putting it back in the wardrobe and taking out another. I look at her in exasperation as she hands it to me with raised eyebrows, just daring me to contradict her. I sigh and take it from her.

"Out," I say, pointing at the door, and a smirk flits across her face as she crosses the room. She pauses in the doorway and lets her eyes run the length of my body. Then, looking back up, I notice the teasing glint in her eye.

"It's not as though I haven't already seen it," she stage-whispers before shutting the door behind her. Feeling my neck heat up, I dress quickly. I put on the shirt Danni chose, though I still don't see why the other one wouldn't have worked, but whatever. I glance in the mirror at my hopeless hair. I try to flatten it, and it does very little to help the messy state of it. Rolling my eyes and running a hand through it again – making it stand up even worse than it had been previously – I give up and head downstairs.

Danni is sitting in the kitchen waiting for me. She grins and stands when she sees me and eyes my hair with a touch of amusement. I catch her eye and shake my head at her, and she just grins wider.

"Your hair is so hopeless," she tells me with a small laugh. I roll my eyes and pour a bowl of cereal. She leans against the counter beside me as I scarf it quickly, watching me with the expression of one trying to keep from bursting out laughing. One corner of her mouth pulls up from the effort.

"What time's the game start?" she asks mildly as I dump the remaining milk down the sink. I glance at the clock.

"Quarter to one. We should get going soon," I say, noticing that it's just a minute or so shy of a quarter after.

"So it's been a big mystery all week," Danni says in confusion, glancing up at me. "_How_ are we getting there? You don't have a car," she tells me – like I don't know this already. Even if I _did,_ I wouldn't know what to do with it.

I wanted Apparition to be a surprise for her. That, and I wanted to check with Gran first to make sure it was okay. I mean, I'm not sure exactly how close of tabs the Ministry would be keeping on a wizarding household in a Muggle neighborhood, but Gran assured me that it happened – especially in half-and-half households (one Muggle parent, one wizard/witch) – that Muggles would get Side-Along-Apparated once and awhile and the Ministry probably wouldn't care so long as we left from inside the house. As for whether or not being pregnant would somehow complicate the matter, Gran told me she didn't think it would make a difference either way.

"Come here," I say to Danni now, and she comes to my side instantly, I wrap both arms around her firmly. "Grab my arm and hold on as tight as you can," I instruct her. She glances up at me nervously but does as she's told. Her grip nearly cuts the blood flow in my arm, but I don't complain.

"What are we doing?" she asks curiously, and I grin down at her.

"Just hold on tight and _do not_ let go, understand?" I tell her. She looks even more nervous now, but she nods and takes a deep breath. "Okay, hold on," I say with a smile. I take a step forward with some difficulty – considering Danni's clinging to me like a leech – and turn quickly on my heel. I feel my arm wrench from her grip, which triples. A few seconds later we appear outside the Ireland Quidditch stadium, where people are streaming through the gates eagerly. Danni looks around in awe.

"That was so cool," she breathes, and I grin down at her. "Do you always travel like that?" she asks as we join the long queue waiting to get into the stadium.

"Not _always_," I say with a small laugh. "But that's how most of us travel, yes. Some prefer brooms, but that's not quite so discreet, and we can't have the Muggles noticing."

"I wish I could do it," she says somewhat wistfully. I just laugh at her and wrap an arm around her waist so we don't get separated in the crowd. She grins at me as I pull her close, and I smile down at her a little distractedly while I dig in my pockets for my wallet, where I stashed the tickets that I somehow managed to get fairly cheap despite buying them only a week before the game.

We finally reach the gate and I hand the really bored-looking ticket-taker our tickets, which he glances at with an uninterested expression before waving us on through. I look around for any signs indicating which way our section is – it's been awhile since I've been here. Finally I get my bearings – thanks to some conveniently posted signs with arrows – and I lead Danni in that direction.

We finally find our seats – after getting lost twice – and emerge into the streaming sunlight and a roaring crowd. Danni clutches my arm in excitement as we sit down. The two teams are already zooming back and forth in their warm-ups, the Ireland supporters are obvious as a giant sea of green. There's a fairly sizeable crowd for England as well, a huge mass of blue waving banners and trying to out-cheer the Irish crowd. It's actually pretty amusing.

"That is so cool!" she yells above the noise, indicating the players flying up and down the pitch at a pretty moderate speed. I'm looking forward to what she'll have to say when they're going full-speed.

"Just wait till they actually start playing!" I shout back. She grins in excitement.

x.x

Aria

Ireland takes the Quaffle instantly at the start of the game, and Sean, Al, and Maya pull off an amazing play. The game passes quickly, and before half an hour has passed, the score is 130-80 in Ireland's favor. I watch as England's star Chaser, Tyson Gray, speeds down the pitch with Al right on his tail. Tyson searches desperately for his teammates, but they're both being blocked, and when a Beater for Ireland smacks a Bludger at him, he ducks and drops the Quaffle right into Al's waiting arms.

Al whips around on a dime and zooms back down to England's end before the rest of the team even realizes what just happened. He scores yet another goal and the Ireland supporters erupt into cheers.

It goes on like this for another hour – England will suddenly show some promise, only to be thwarted by the practically instinctual teamwork of the Ireland Chasers. I glance up to see how Carrie Ackerly – the Seeker for Ireland – is doing, circling above the stadium, keeping her eyes peeled for the Snitch. Suddenly she pulls up short, stares hard at a spot near Lecksi's ankle, and then drops into a steep dive.

I lean forward in anticipation as the English Seeker catches on and speeds after her. A collective cheer goes around the stadium as everyone finally notices the two Seekers going head-to-head.

"Go, Lecksi!" I shout as the people around me roar a cheer.

x.x

Jake

Danni squeals – actually _squeals_ – as the two Seekers dive toward the Irish Keeper, where I can just see the glimmer of gold that is the Snitch near her foot. She grabs at my arm in excitement.

"This is amazing!" she screams as everyone erupts in cheers around us for Carrie Ackerly. We join in the shouts and screams as she loops around the Keeper and then zooms upward, holding her hand aloft in triumph. The stadium positively shakes with the sound of the cheers from the Irish supporters.

Danni jumps up and cheers too, caught up in the moment, and I grin at her in amusement. She flushes but keeps grinning anyway, cheering for the win.

x.x

Sean

The fans take forever to empty from the stadium after we win. We hang around on the pitch with the other team, and Karen shows up and resumes trying to get Luke to like me.

I look around for Aria, but in the throng of people I can't spot her. I look around rather anxiously – she'll know to come back down here won't she? Al notices me glancing around and sidles up to me.

"Looking for Aria?" he asks, scanning the crowd as well. I nod and turn to keep looking. Just as I'm really starting to get worried I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn and see Aria standing there with a smile on her face, looking happier than I've seen her all day. She hugs me.

"Great job!" she exclaims. I stare at her, slightly puzzled.

"Did you just Apparate down here?" I ask her. I thought people weren't allowed to do that after the game started. She shakes her head though.

"No, I Apparated across the stadium and then walked here from over there," she says, pointing to the lowest row of seats. "The crowd was crazy over where I was sitting. I never would have gotten down."

"Did you enjoy the game?" I ask her, and she grins again.

"It was amazing! You guys are great!" she says enthusiastically.

"Aw, just the guys?" Lecksi says playfully, joining us. Aria smiles at her.

"You were amazing too. All of you were! I'd forgotten how fast professional Quidditch can be. It was just … wow!" I smile at her excitement. It's good to see her so happy and worked-up like this. Al catches my eye and smiles appreciatively, and I know that _this_ is the Aria he was waiting to emerge earlier.

"But you're still not gonna give up a job in that gloomy hospital for it, eh?" he asks, slinging an arm around her again. She stiffens instantly, like Dad says she does whenever anyone touches her now, but he goes on as if he doesn't notice. However, I do notice him glance at me, his brow dipping for just long enough to convey his concern, but the look is gone as swiftly as it came.

"Sorry, Al," Aria replies with half a smile at him. "I love my job."

"Damn," he says good-naturedly, earning himself a real smile this time. "Too bad. But you're still going to show us some of your real skills now, aren't you? I mean, we all know you were holding back earlier," he jokes with a wink, and Aria blushes and ducks her head.

"Sure, I guess," she mumbles modestly, but I know she likes the idea of getting to play again. She was just starting to get into it earlier when we had to stop.

"Alright, you heard the lady! Let's get this woman a broom!" Al shouts, and Kyle McKeown – one of our Beaters – offers up his immediately. Aria takes it gracefully, thanking him softly, and he smiles at her in a way that makes me glance at him warningly. He catches my gaze and looks away quickly, but not before I notice him exchange a glance with his fellow Beater Darren Farnum.

"Let's get this show on the road then!" Al says, breaking the tension. He lets Aria slip out of his grip and mount Kyle's broom a bit hesitantly.

"Hey, mind if we join you?" Luke asks, strolling over to see what's going on. He looks at Aria in confusion for a few seconds before a light goes on in his eyes and he recognizes her. "Aria Weasley?" he asks, and she looks up curiously.

"Wow you…" he tapers off, politely refraining from saying what everyone's been thinking. She looks _so sick_. She grits her teeth and looks away, all too aware of how she appears to us.

"Hey, why don't we play?" I suggest softly. "Let's get up in the air, huh? Let's have some fun."

Everyone nods and shoots into the air super fast, leaving just Aria, Al, and me back on the ground in a matter of seconds. Al glances at me and I nod at him to go on without us. He frowns and does so rather reluctantly.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask her, and she turns to look at me, her eyes suddenly taking on a very deadened look.

"I'm fine," she says tonelessly, which only makes me worry more.

"Aria…"

"I'm _fine_," she snaps, kicking off and flying off before I can say anything else. I stare after her with concern. I'm about to follow when a movement out of the corner of my eye makes me turn.

"Hey, no one on the field!" I shout at the two people I see moving across the grass. "This is a closed practice!" I add, even though we're not practicing, we're just goofing around. But no one seems in the mood to sign autographs at the moment, and I'm sure none of the others would appreciate having some random strangers gawking at them.

However, when the clouds shift enough to hide the sun so I'm not staring directly into it, I see that the couple walking toward me consists of some girl I've never seen before with curly brown hair and a bloke I happen to know _very_ well with consistently messy, nearly black brown hair.

"Jake?" I ask, and for just a moment I grin. It's been so long since I've seen him – Dad's seen him _twice_ since he left, and Aria once. I haven't seen him at all. He never even said good-bye. I hadn't realized I'd missed him quite so much until now, seeing him strolling toward me with an easy smile on his face … and his arm around the girl. And then everything comes crashing back down on me. Especially the fact that Aria is _right above me_. I glance up to see they didn't wait for me – they're already full into their scrimmaging, and I notice our two teams completely intermixed, and everyone seems to be having fun.

"Hey, Sean," Jake says when the two of them reach me. I glance up one more time to see where Aria is. She's showing off, spiraling and flipping around, finally having fun. I smile slightly at that until I see Jake following my gaze. He does so with some difficulty – the game above us is a thriving mass of bodies all flipping around one another, but eventually his eyes focus on one particular person and all the blood leaves his face instantly.

I see the girl with him looking at him with concern, but his eyes are glued to Aria, who cuts off one of the English Chasers mid-spiral, causing him to have to pull up short, effectively making him drop the Quaffle right into Luke (who's playing on Aria's team) Reiley's arms. He grins and zooms off eagerly. Aria casts a cocky grin at the Chaser she cut off before hurrying to catch up and get open for poor Luke, who now finds himself surrounded.

"Luke!" Aria shouts, and he glances up and hesitates only a split second before throwing it to her. She catches it easily with one hand and shoots and easy goal over Lecksi's head.

I glance back at Jake to see him looking pained. The girl is glancing between him, me, and the players in the air, not quite able to tell who he's looking at.

"Jake," I say, trying to distract him. He jumps and looks at me.

"I think … I think this might have been a mistake," he whispers rather hoarsely, looking back up at Aria, who's grinning at Al as he praises her for her goal. His teeth clamp together hard as he watches her, and this time a spark of recognition goes off in the girl's eyes. I notice a brief shadow pass over her face at his expression, and her eyes flick upwards and search the faces of the girls near and around Aria, searching curiously.

"Jake," I say one more time. "It's good to see you." He finally looks back down at me, and a small smile crosses his features.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too," he says sincerely. "I've missed you," he says with a rueful grin. I smile back. The girl beside him squeezes his arm lightly and he looks at her as if suddenly realizing she's there.

"Oh! Sean, this is Danni. Danni, Sean. We grew up together," he says, introducing us. Danni smiles at me faintly, and the name reminds me of why Aria is in her current state. Despite myself, my smile to her feels cold, and I'm sure they can both tell. Jake shifts uncomfortably.

"Sean is, uh … Aria's brother," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, and again I notice a dark look flit across Danni's face at the mention of Aria, though it's replaced quickly by discomfort and understanding. I feel terrible for my reaction to her, and I try to smile in a more friendly manner.

"So you're Danni," I say, and she smiles uncertainly. "I … well I guess I can't say I've heard a lot about you," I say with a grin, which isn't at all true. I've heard plenty about her – none of it very positive – from Dad, despite his argument that Jake is doing the right thing by staying with her. Danni smiles however, and I feel better.

"There's not much to hear really," she says softly, and I notice Jake's slightly surprised and amused glance at her. I notice the way his arm tightens around her rather protectively and I feel a surge of anger at him. How can he be with her? Doesn't he understand how much Aria loves him? But I control it, knowing he's only doing what he thinks – _knows_ – is best.

The words are out before I can stop them. "I can't believe you're going to be a dad," I murmur, and something flickers in his eyes that I can't identify before it disappears. He smiles in a rather pained way, and Danni stiffens noticeably.

"Sorry," I mutter. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine," Danni cuts in just as a cheer erupts above us. We all glance up to see Aria twirling around in triumph while her temporary teammates cheer for yet another goal she obviously just scored. Jake's expression morphs into one of utter despair for a moment, and Danni notices. She wraps her arms around him in a quick hug. Their exchange is odd, and when they both look at me, I'm sure it shows in my face how strange I think it is because Jake looks at me pleadingly and Danni glances away uncomfortably.

"So … how have you been, Jake?" I ask after another uncomfortable pause. Jake shrugs, fiddling now with a string hanging off Danni's shirt, twisting it idly around his finger and then untwisting and re-twisting it over and over again. Danni looks down and lays her hand gently on top of his and he stops. Jake glances up at me and notices my line of sight.

"You're mad at me aren't you?" he murmurs, and I look at him, honestly surprised.

x.x

Aria

"Ha, we win!" Carrie says triumphantly, waving the Snitch in my face in a slightly obnoxious manner, but I shrug and grin.

"Whatever. We weren't keeping score anyway," I say, and her smugness disappears. Al pops up beside me out of nowhere and reaches out and ruffles my hair. I duck from his hand and grin up at him.

"Great job out there. And you say you're out of practice. What, have you been holding St. Mungo's scrimmages out behind the hospital on break or something? You're still as awesome as ever," he says proudly, and I feel myself blushing at his praise, while grinning at imagining the stuffy old Healers on top-of-the-line Quidditch brooms trying to throw a Quaffle back and forth. Still, I know I'm really not that great – not compared to them anyway. But I notice Luke Reiley nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, Weasley, you're still as good as ever," he says, and I can tell he's holding back, probably too polite to say the other half – _"…even if you do look like you haven't eaten in a month."_

I smile at Luke in thanks, trying my hardest to stop being embarrassed by everyone's lavish approval of me. Even that rude alternate is smiling at me admiringly now, and I attempt to smile back at her. I look around, suddenly realizing that Sean's not up here. I know he didn't follow me because of those two fans on the field he was trying to get rid of, and when I glance down I see him still talking to them. Confused, I look at Al questioningly, and he just shrugs and starts drifting back toward the ground. Everyone follows suit and we descend in a massive cloud of Quidditch players. When we reach the ground I find myself smack in the middle of them.

I have to fight my way out of the throng of tall and well-muscled people to get back to Sean, and halfway there I feel someone catch my wrist. I look back to see Al trying to keep up with me. I smile up at him and as I do so I realize something I never noticed about him before, back when we were in school: He's extremely good-looking. And he has an amazing smile.

"Wait up, there, champ," he says, and I grin, suddenly remembering his pet name for me when we were in Hogwarts. He seems to realize that as well, and he chuckled. "I'd forgotten I used to call you that," he says, once more throwing his arm around my shoulders. I feel myself stiffen on instinct now, and a brief look of concern flickers across his face, but it's replaced quickly by a smile when he sees me watching him.

We finally emerge out of the group to see Sean chatting with the two people who walked onto the field earlier. I'm surprised he hasn't told them to get lost by now. He has about zero tolerance for autograph-seekers. I don't know why it bothers him so much.

"Sean, you missed an awesome game, mate!" Al yells to him, even though he's not standing far enough away to actually warrant yelling. But it gets his attention. Sean turns and grins at Al before seeing me, which causes his smile to disappear, and a look of panic settles into his expression.

Curious, I peer beyond him at his "fans". When I see who's standing there, my blood runs cold.

Jake looks at me warily from behind Sean, and I freeze in place, which causes Al to run into me. I pitch forward at the impact. Al barely manages to catch me before I do a face plant on the hard Quidditch pitch.

"Whoa! Sorry, Aria! Shouldn't stop so suddenly like that, y'know? I would've squashed you flat, and then where would all those sick people be, huh?" he asks mock-sternly as he sets me back up on my feet. I can't even manage a smile at his joking. His smile slips away and he looks at me with open concern.

"You alright? Didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, laying a hand on my shoulder. I just shake my head at his question, my eyes glued to the ground, very aware of four sets of eyes watching me closely. I barely manage to raise my head to look at Sean, and in my peripheral vision I can see the outline of Jake and beside him, a girl a good head taller than me with curly hair, watching me with curiosity.

"Aria?" Al asks, sounding confused now. I see Sean look at him and shake his head just a fraction of an inch to each side. Then he looks back at me, his face apologetic.

I glance at Jake again, and discover it to be a really bad idea. He's looking straight at me, an unfamiliar look in his eyes. All of those feelings from the last time I saw him well up inside me, and when I finally glance away, my gaze lands on the girl beside him, and I take in his arm wrapped tightly around her.

x.x

Jake

I didn't come here thinking I'd see Aria. I certainly didn't come here thinking Aria and Danni would _meet_. I guess I thought if they ever met it would be a very, _very_ long time from now, after everything had cooled down, not only a month after breaking Aria's heart … again.

I see her eyes settle on my arm around Danni, and I itch to let her go and hold Aria instead. But I can't do that. Tears well up in her eyes and shame and guilt wash through me instantly. I shouldn't have come. I should never have come here with the intention of seeing Sean, not anticipating that Aria might be here too.

Al looks back and forth between us with mounting confusion. His hand on Aria's shoulder tightens slightly, and she starts in surprise, looking up at him as though just remembering he's there. I look at Sean for help with this, but he's watching Al and Aria, biting his lip uncertainly at his awkward position here.

"Maybe we should just go, Jake," Danni whispers, her eyes never leaving Aria's face as though she's trying to memorize every detail there, though for what purpose I'm not sure. Aria's eyes snap to her as she speaks, and for a second there I see absolute _loathing_ in her eyes, and I feel Danni press against me at the glare she's receiving. But the expression is gone quickly, and in its place is a hopelessness that makes me ache.

"Yeah…" I say slowly, not quite able to tear my eyes away from Aria either. "Yeah, maybe we should go," I reply, taking one step backward. Aria's face fills with sudden fear.

"No," she whispers. "Jake." Her voice breaks, and hesitantly, Al wraps an arm around her shoulders. She stiffens at his touch, and I'm reminded of how she reacted _that_ day when Drew tried to do the same thing.

For just a second I forget about Danni. I forget she's standing there, clinging to my arm desperately, practically begging me to get her out of here. The urge to wrap my arms around Aria right now is so strong I nearly wrench myself out of Danni's grip. But then it all comes rushing back, and I become aware of losing feeling in my arm due to a certain someone's sharp nails.

"Jake," Danni whispers, tugging on my arm anxiously. "Jake, let's go."

I look at Aria, and her eyes turn toward me, pain and fear making them nearly unbearable to look at. Almost unconsciously my feet take a small step forward. Four pairs of eyes snap to my face as I do so, two pairs filled with fear, one pair with confusion, and one pair with a very sharp and angry warning.

I glance down at Danni to see her watching me uncertainly and fearfully. "Jake, please. Let's just go home. Please?" she whispers, loosening her grip on my arm until I can feel blood flow again. "Jake, please," she begs softly.

I swallow nervously and glance at Sean, who's still glaring at me warningly. Al, with his arm still around Aria's shoulder is looking thoroughly confused by all of this.

Aria is looking at me desperately, and I clench my teeth to keep from saying anything to her. _I love you! I'm sorry!_ I want to shout. But I can't. I can only look at her sadly while Danni continues to beg me to leave.

"Jake, just go," Sean sighs, finally moving and walking over to us. He glances back at Aria and then looks at me grimly. "Please just go," he murmurs softly. "The longer you stay, the worse it will be for her, Jake, okay? Just leave. She can't handle this right now. She was _just_ starting to get better. Jake, she was _laughing_ earlier. Do you have any idea how long it's been since she laughed?" he asks anxiously, and I feel my heart clench with the guilt of what I've done to her.

"I didn't know she'd be here," I say softly, glancing quickly at her to see she's still watching us, her eyes filled with tears. Al moves in front of her and bends his head to speak to her. A second later I hear the heartbreaking sound of her sobbing.

"Jake, don't do it," Sean says, grabbing my arm as my feet prepare to take me to her. "I know you have some weird hero-saving-the-damsel-in-distress complex or something, but right now, you are _not_ what she needs, okay?"

"I do _not_ have a hero-saving-the-damsel-in-distress complex," I hiss, and Danni coughs slightly. I nudge her and glare down at her. "I _don't_." She just smiles innocently and I roll my eyes at her fondly.

"Look, Jake, maybe you two should get out of here…" Sean says, glancing meaningfully back at Al. I nod.

"Yeah, you're right. We should get going. I … I'm sorry, Sean," I say softly. "For everything."

Sean's face suddenly saddens. He pulls me into a really quick hug. "I'll miss you," he says with a sad smile. "I wish … never mind," he says, glancing at Danni. He sighs.

"I'll miss you too, mate," I tell him. "Maybe we can catch up for real sometime?"

He shrugs uncomfortably and glances over at Al again. "I dunno if that's such a great idea. But … stay in touch, alright? And…" he trails off, looking a Danni again, who shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. One corner of his mouth lifts up in half a smile. "Send me pictures," he says meaningfully. I grin at him, and he smiles a real smile this time.

"Let's go, Jake," Danni whispers, slipping her hand into mine and looking up at me pleadingly. I nod at her, and she turns to Sean. "It was nice meeting you," she says softly. I find her sudden shyness baffling and amusing. She's usually so outspoken and loud. It's weird to see her quiet like this. Maybe that shows in my face because she whacks my arm and grins at me. "What are you grinning at?" she asks, and I just grin more.

"You, and how shy you're acting," I say with a small laugh. She rolls her eyes at Sean in a 'can-you-believe-this?' look, and Sean grins at me again. His smile slips away though when he looks over my shoulder at Al and Aria once again. With a grave sigh he turns to me.

"Go," he murmurs. "And … Jake, don't take this the wrong way but … don't come back. I can't imagine what it would do to her. Especially once …" he glances at Danni again, "… once the baby's born."

And then, with one last grim look at me and half a smile at Danni, he turns and walks back over to Al and his sister, taking her from him and hugging her. I see her arms wrap around him and cling to him, and I feel so terrible for doing this to her _again_.

"Sorry," I whisper before drawing Danni close and Apparating away.

x.x

Aria

Over Sean's shoulder I watch Jake wrap his arm around Danni, watch her latch onto that arm tightly, and then a second later they're gone. And I'll probably never see either of them ever again. I bury my face in Sean's shoulder and let myself cry.**

* * *

A/N**: Whew! That was long! It was originally going to be three chapters, but the third one wasn't long enough. Once again, I apologize for grammatical errors. I'm too tired to edit right now, but I'll probably get around to them eventually. Thanks for reading! Please review!

One more note, and I'll make it short. I've been seriously thinking about it for awhile, and I think instead of having this be the final installment of Family Ties, I'll cut it in half. This story isn't anywhere near finished yet though, so don't worry, but this one will end shortly after the birth of Danni and Jake's child and the fourth one will take it up ... a certain period of time down the road from there. Because otherwise this story will end up being about sixty chapters long and who wants to do that? Not me. So I'm thinking... we still have quite a ways left to go here. I'm going to _try_ to wrap it up in seven chapters so that we don't pass thirty chapters, but I don't know if I can do it. Think I can? Well, we'll find out won't we? Review, por favor!


	24. Commitments

**A/N**: Thanks to all of the reviewers from last chapter(s)! Keep up the good work! I appreciate all comments and questions, news and views. You guys keep me focused. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Commitments**

Allan Jargan

I can feel everyone's curious gazes on us as Sean and I take Aria away from the crowd. Sean leads her over to the wall and sits her down in the partially shaded grass there. She clings to him, shaking uncontrollably, and buries her face in his chest. I stand there uncertainly for a moment before shrugging slightly and sitting down on her other side. Aria doesn't react, but Sean shoots me a rather annoyed look. I ignore him.

"Aria?" I ask softly. She gives a strange squeak of surprise as I lay a hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't pull away. I take that as encouragement. "Aria," I say again. Slowly, she raises her head and turns toward me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and slightly puffy, and there are tear tracks down her face. But it's the look in her eyes that cause my breath to catch. There's so much _pain_ there.

I glance at Sean again. He's watching me carefully, still holding onto Aria protectively, but he's looking at me as though analyzing me or something. I look back steadily, wondering what he's trying to see. Eventually he must spot something he likes because he gently loosens his grip on his sister. He leans down and murmurs softly in her ear, and she nods. He glances back up at me and grimaces apologetically.

"Do you mind? I'm going to try to clear the field," he says softly. I glance at Aria to find her staring morosely at the grass, not listening. Sean catches my eye again, and before he can hide it, I see the hopelessness and devastation in his own face, so terrified of whatever Aria's become in the last three months.

"Sure, go ahead," I say softly, reaching out and carefully wrapping an arm around my former teammate's tiny waist and drawing her close. She looks up sharply when her hip bumps against mine, and for just a moment I see the old Aria there – feisty, fun, and full of life. But when I smile tentatively at her, her expression crumbles and tears jump to her eyes. Horrified that such a simple action could cause this sort of response, I glance at Sean for help. He may be three years younger than me, but he obviously knows something more about this than I do.

Sean shakes his head at me as he stands to try to get rid of unwanted spectators. I watch him go and join in Karen Vemborrow's conversation with Luke Reiley and Tyson Gray. He says something and all three of them glance my way before nodding and splitting up. A few moments later the large group of Quidditch players starts off the pitch, casting us curious looks as they pass but not saying anything.

Aria has her face pressed against my arm, not crying anymore, but still trembling and clinging to me as though afraid I'll disappear if she lets go.

"Aria, talk to me," I whisper, and she lets out a disconcerting whimper. "Aria, please."

Very slowly, she turns and raises her head and looks at me, her cheek resting against my chest. Her expression is unlike anything I've ever seen on her face – a face, I've noticed, that happens to be very lovely, even if it is a little on the thin side. Almost unconsciously I raise a hand and stroke her cheek, tracing the sharp outline of her cheekbones and the hollows in her cheeks. She stiffens at the touch, her blue eyes suddenly taking on a frightened glimmer, and I let my hand fall to her shoulder.

"Aria," I start, and she swallows hard, averting her eyes and suddenly looking ashamed of herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "You … you shouldn't have to deal with this," she says softly, laughing humorlessly. Concern for her flares and I gently take her chin and make her look at me.

"You can talk to me, Aria," I tell her seriously, looking her straight in the eye. "Don't ever forget that."

She holds my gaze for almost half a minute before sighing and looking away again. I let go of her face, and she ducks her head, hiding her expression. Acting completely on instinct, I wrap my free arm around her and tighten the arm already wrapped round her waist. She goes rigid in my grasp again, but I pull her closer and hug her, and I don't loosen my grip. After a minute or two, she slowly relaxes into my arms and leans against me. And _then_ she starts to cry.

x.x

Aria

I didn't expect to find a friend here. I mean, of course, Al and I used to be really close, back in Hogwarts. And yeah, I guess we're still friends. What I mean is … I didn't expect to find someone who wouldn't flinch away from my problems. Drew can't help it – he doesn't know how to handle me anymore, and I don't really blame him. Kay tries, but she gets frustrated easily and just doesn't understand. And Dad and Keira have all but given up on me.

Sean … he understands. But he's gone all the time. He's almost completely moved out now – the only things of his left in his bedroom are a couple of boxes of clothes and the furniture. He just moved into a new flat in Dublin to be closer to the stadium and his teammates. I haven't seen it – I haven't really cared actually – but I overhead Dad telling Keira how much nicer it was than the one he'd had in London previously.

But my point was, I didn't come here expecting to find someone who could even try to understand. The others certainly don't. They all had fun playing earlier, but I could still feel their eyes on me, wondering what had happened to me in the last three months. Yet, Al sits here now, holding me as though heartbroken girls seek his comfort every day. I almost have to smile at that thought, but then I remember Jake and his arm wrapped around Danni, and the smiles slips away.

Why would he come here? Why would he bring _her_ here? Did he really feel it necessary to rub my nose in the fact that I couldn't have him? I feel the previously dull ache in my chest sharpen at that thought, and I grit my teeth against the pain. Al's arm tightens around protectively at my sharp intake of breath.

"Aria," he whispers, and I have to blink away tears again at the worry in his tone. "Aria, please tell me what's going on."

I take a shaky breath and look at him again. His brown hair falls into his eyes, shadowing his gray-green eyes, but not concealing the concern there. I open my mouth to say something – anything – to assure him I'm okay, but I can't. I close my mouth again, clench my teeth, look away from him. Al's never been anything but kind to me – occasionally brutally honest when it came to my Quidditch abilities back in school, but he was never cruel about it.

Al was the one who taught me how to play correctly and effectively. He never gave up on me when I was basically useless as a second year – even before he was Captain, giving me tips to improve. Then, the next year, he tutored me relentlessly, instructing me on how to properly throw and catch and fly and do all three at once. The mid-spiral throw, which became something of a Gryffindor trademark move, was his idea, and he taught us how to pull it off.

So you can understand why I might have a problem lying to him. His hand is gentle as he brings my chin around again. I look up at him, see the concern and affection there, and I feel something inside me give up. I don't want to pretend anymore. I'm sick of lying and putting up walls and keeping people out. I need a friend. So I sigh and lean on him once more.

"I love him," I whisper, not looking at him. He sort of stiffens at that, as though surprised by it, but he relaxes almost instantly.

"Who?" he asks gently, and tears well up in my eyes when I picture him.

"Jake."

x.x

Al

I don't know what exactly is making her talk to me now. All I know is that when she looked in my eyes that last time, something changed in her expression just slightly. Some defiance in her eyes dissolved, leaving weariness behind, and I sensed that she somehow chose right in that moment to stop bottling everything up.

So now she's talking. And talking. … and still talking. Of course I know Jake – I saw the kid play on my team for two years, and he was a fairly decent Beater. I also happen to know he once had an enormous crush on Aria – you could _see_ it when he looked at her. The look he was giving her here earlier was … that was something else. I'm still not sure what it is. It was kind of scary actually, that desperation and hopelessness in each of their faces, practically mirroring each other.

Aria tells me about falling for Jake, progressively harder with each year past. She tells me about how close she came to confessing her feelings to him, and then how he left in search of his father. She tells me about the two long months of loneliness and the periodical bright spots of her new friends and her job. And then she tells me about overhearing Jake and her dad, tells me how she found out that Jake had gotten this other girl – Danni – pregnant and is choosing to stay with her. I don't tell her my opinion on that – I think he's doing a good thing there.

I saw Danni today – she looked scared and small, and I can't imagine what sort of shape she'd be in without Jake there for her. She looked … lost. I hope Jake's taking good care of her. She needs him. But I can't tell Aria that.

I look back down at Aria to see her still talking – tears running down her cheeks silently – and I can't help but wonder if she doesn't need him too. She's so in love with him that she's completely lost track of what other things are important in life. I think she realizes it, but she doesn't care enough to change it. At least … she didn't before. Maybe now, getting this all in the open … maybe it'll help her. Maybe _I_ can help her.

Back in Hogwarts, I never noticed her much – other than at Quidditch or as a feisty (and somewhat annoying) little third year when I started as Captain. We were friends in a warped sense of the word – I was more a mentor to her than anything, helping her hone her Quidditch skills. But that was all we were to each other – teacher and student, teammates, Chaser and Captain. Now however, I can't help but see how gorgeous she is, despite the tears running down her face and her red eyes and the fact that she's much too thin to be healthy. But she's absolutely beautiful. And the longer I hold her, the more I want to ease her pain, make it completely disappear. And the more she talks and cries, the more I wish I could ever have some tiny corner of her heart the way Jake seems to have the entire thing.

After awhile, she peters out and falls silent, slumping against me miserably and looking thoroughly exhausted. She leans her head against my shoulder and sighs sadly. I hug her and for once she doesn't stiffen in my arms. She looks up at me with the smallest ghost of a smile and hugs me back, slipping her arms around my waist and squeezing with the slightest pressure, so soft I barely feel it.

I reach up hesitantly and push her hair out of her face, wiping away the tears still clinging to her cheeks. I stroke her long curly hair gently and run a hand down her arm. At the end of it, I take her hand and lace my fingers with hers. She's looking at me a bit uncertainly now, and I smile reassuringly. I'd love to kiss her right now, but I know she's not even close to ready for it. So instead, I squeeze her hand, pull her close, and very gently kiss her forehead. She pulls back with a smile, and I feel relief pour through me like someone broke a dam. After all this time – nearly an hour I realize with some surprise – she's finally smiling. I smile back and hug her again.

"Thank you," she whispers. From her weighted tone, I can tell she's not thanking me for hugging her or just listening. I _think_ … I think she's thanking me for making her smile. I think she was unsure of whether or not she'd ever smile again. And I brought that beautiful thing back to her face. Or maybe she really is just thanking me for listening.

"You're welcome," I murmur, forcefully having to restrain myself from kissing her now. It would shatter all the trust I just built up with her, and then I couldn't even be her friend. She must see some of that in my expression, because something flickers in her face, some small recognition of the look on my face, and she sighs slightly, pulling away.

"Hey," I say, catching her hand. She looks back at me curiously. "Did … did I offend you or something?" I ask carefully. She offers me a small smile.

"No, Al. You've been a good friend," she says with only the slightest emphasis on the last word, but I catch her meaning.

"I can live with that," I reply, releasing her hand slowly. She looks at me quizzically for a moment, studying my face, before giving me another tiny smile.

"I really need a friend right now," she murmurs, looking down. I feel her hand slip into mine again, and a smile takes over my face before I can control it. Luckily, she doesn't look up to see the silly expression on my face before I rid myself of it.

"I can be that," I answer confidently. I can be her friend. I want to be her friend. I never want to see her in such pain ever again. She looks up sharply.

"That's not the easiest thing to be these days," she says gently, despite her severe expression. I squeeze her hand.

"I'm up to it," I insist, smiling hesitantly. She stares at me hard for a long moment. Something about her expression makes me continue. "I'm not going to run away, Aria." She flinches, ripping her hand out of mine and turning away. I realize with growing dread that I've just made a terrible mistake.

"I-I … Aria, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," she mutters. Her insolent tone strikes a chord with me, and I find myself getting defensive.

"No," I say stubbornly. She's silent for a moment before turning back to me, looking wary and confused.

"No?"

"No, I'm not going to "save it". I'm going to apologize for saying something that hurt you, and you're going to listen. I'm sorry. You obviously … _we_ obviously have some communication problems we need to work out. I didn't realize that what I said would hurt you – I wasn't _trying_ to hurt you. You have to understand that," I tell her, and her expression is nothing but shock. I have a feeling no one really stands up to Aria much when she goes into her moods like this.

After another moment her expression softens and she looks embarrassed. "I'm sorry too," she mumbles. "I overreacted."

"Now," I say, satisfied that I've made amends and she's not going to go running off, never to return. I take her hand in mine again, firmly reinforcing the idea that she can't scare me off. "Tell me why that was the wrong thing to say."

She looks up again, her blue eyes boring into mine. I see a flicker of the old Aria again in the sudden flare of anger, but it's quickly gone, replaced once more by guilt and shame.

"I just … a friend of mine said something to me today about how I should be-" her voice breaks, but she waves away my sudden concern that springs up at her tears. She takes a deep breath and continues. "She said I should be _proud_ of him. Because he's not … not … _running away_ from his problems." She finishes the sentence at barely a whisper, looking away from me again. I realize what a nerve I must have hit by saying such a thing to her.

"Then I'm sorry I said that," I murmur, rubbing her hand gently with my thumb. She shrugs.

"You didn't know," she murmurs. "I'm sorry I acted like that."

"We both have some adjusting to do, I think," I murmur, and I catch her eye again. She smiles just slightly, but it's a sad smile, not one of the brief, happier ones I've seen so far.

"Al, can I be honest with you?" she asks rather earnestly.

"Of course," I tell her gently.

"I need a friend. I need someone who can be there for me. And I know you say you can be that for me, but the fact of the matter is, Al, that you're a Quidditch player. You travel _a lot_. What do I do when you're not here?" she asks, and very suddenly the weight of what she's asking of me is heavy on my shoulders. This isn't some one-time, friendly shoulder-to-cry-on thing she's asking for. She _needs_ me. This isn't normal friendship she's talking about here. She's _depending _on me.

Then, just as suddenly, I decide that's okay. If she needs me, I'll be here. As long as she needs me and wants me around, I'm going to be there for her. But her question is a hard one. She's right – I _do_ travel a lot. And what is she to do if she needs me, and I can't be there? I stare at her, pondering her question while trying _not_ to ponder how beautiful she is. Then, inspiration strikes, and I grin at her. She looks a little concerned, but her anxious expression doesn't really waver.

"You know what a cell phone is?" I ask, and her expression morphs into confusion, but she nods slowly.

"Sure. Muggles use them all the time," she says uncertainly. "My mum had one. I wanted one as a kid, but she wouldn't let me get one," she says with a smile of remembrance. "But what has that got to do with…" she trails off, understanding dawning.

"You want me to get a cell phone?" she asks, cocking one eyebrow at me in such a way I thought I'd not see for a very long time from her. I grin at the expression.

"Well, it's certainly a more effective means of communication than owl post," I tell her. "And … if you ever needed to talk, I'd just be a phone call away."

"You're Muggle-born aren't you?" she asks, and I laugh at her matter-of-fact tone.

"No, actually," I tell her, still grinning. "My step-mum's a Muggle though. And she's been trying to force her Muggle technology on my dad and me for more than ten years. I finally just broke down and _bought_ the stupid thing," I say, pulling out the small, easily-pocketed phone my step-mother practically ordered me to buy after numerous unsuccessful bonding attempts with our family owl.

I look at Aria, trying to gauge her reaction, but she's staring at the phone in my hand thoughtfully. Then, slowly, she nods and looks back up at me. I'm expecting to see an agreeable expression there, but instead I'm confronted with that anxious, earnest look again.

"You don't have to do this," she says, and I smile at her again.

"I want to. I want you to be able to talk to me, Aria. You used to, once. Remember? You used to come to me with all sorts of silly problems," I remind her, and a sliver of a smile graces her lovely face. "Let's get back to that," I insist. "Get a phone, _call me_ – anytime, day or night. If you need me, I'll always be there. Okay?"

She looks uncertain, but she nods. "Promise?" she asks. I smile at her, lean forward, and place the gentlest of kisses on her cheek.

"I promise."

x.x

Danni

When we appear back in Mrs. Parks' living room, Jake all but collapses onto the sofa. He buries his face in his hands, suddenly looking very lost and for all the world like an upset little boy. I sit down beside him and hesitantly reach out to him; he flinches from my touch and I draw back.

"No, don't," he manages, reaching out and grabbing my hand. "Don't let me chase you off, Danni. I need you."

Surprised and somewhat dismayed by this sudden change in him, I allow him to draw me close, to lean his head against my neck. I let him wrap his arms around me tightly, hugging me to his chest and clinging to me like a scared child. I put my arms around his neck and try to soothe him. I know it won't do any good, but I have to try.

Aria … she isn't quite what I expected. She's so much more, yet at the same not nearly what I thought she'd be. Jake told me she was shorter than me, but I didn't realize quite _how _short she really is. She's positively miniscule. And _thin_. Not healthy-looking thin either. She looked as though she hasn't eaten in weeks. _Maybe she hasn't_. She looked so … haunted. Shivering slightly, remembering the awful look of devastation in the other girl's eyes, I lean against Jake for comfort, and he sighs into my shoulder.

And yet … despite all those flaws in her – the unhealthy pallor of her skin, the pain and loss in her eyes, the utter despair in the way she held herself – I couldn't help but notice how absolutely beautiful she was. Her long brown hair, with just the slightest tint of red to it, curled almost perfectly across her small shoulders and down her back. Her blue eyes are unlike anything I've ever seen – the purest, most gorgeous blue. For a second I let myself feel a stab of jealousy toward her for those beautiful eyes before letting go of it, knowing it won't do me any good.

Poor Jake. Just her looks are enough to make any man drool. And he's known her for _years_. From what he's told me, her personality is even more beautiful. But today her beauty was masked by that pain. It was a terrible thing to see. I had no idea how very deeply she loves him until today. And every time I close my eyes now, I'm afraid of seeing that look of absolute hopelessness and heartbreak in her eyes. It'll probably haunt me for the rest of my life. _I'm_ the reason she's like that. It's because of _me_ that she's heartbroken and on the verge of breakdown.

And Jake can't deny it. Sean said as much – he didn't even _have_ to say it; I could read it written all over his protective face. I realize he doesn't want to hate me, and he most certainly could never hate Jake, but Aria has to come first. I wish I had a brother who cared as much about me.

Jake's arms around me remind me that I have something better. I lean against him even more, snuggling close to him, letting his heat banish the constant chill I feel, remembering Aria's face.

"I'm sorry," he croaks at long last, and I look up at him in surprise.

"For what?"

"I didn't know she'd be there," he says, and when his voice wavers, I'm surprised to see tears in his eyes. "We shouldn't have gone."

I reach up and stroke his cheek, and he sighs sadly. "You _really_ love her," I murmur, more to myself than to him. My heart nearly breaks when he nods slowly, but I manage to hold it together. "She really loves you too," I whisper, and his face contorts in pain. I feel instantly repentant for saying such a horrible thing to him.

"Don't be sorry," he says softly, seeing my expression. He takes my face in his hands and I stare up at him a bit uncertainly. He's unpredictable at the best of times. Now, I'm not sure whether he'll kiss me or break into tears. I rather hope for the former of the two, but I have no way of knowing for sure.

"_I_ love you," I whisper earnestly, and he smiles sadly, leaning in and planting the softest of kisses on my lips. I hold very still, not kissing him back for fear he'll lose the sudden gentleness and lose control again – not that I really mind when he does that, but the gentle kisses are something I don't get much of from him. Actually, I don't really get much of anything in the way of kisses from him. He doesn't find the need to kiss me very often, much to my chagrin.

"And I'm so grateful for it," he murmurs in response to my declaration of love for him, resting his forehead against mine. I look at him in surprise. Why would he be grateful? If anything, he should resent me for loving him. And I don't even know for absolute certain that I'm completely and eternally in love with him – not like I think he and Aria are with each other. I don't know if I could ever feel that burning, passionate, desperate love for him like I saw in Aria's face. I _do_ love him though. Enough for him to stay anyway.

"Maybe we should talk about something else," I suggest quietly, and he nods his consent.

"That sounds like a good idea. How did you like the game?" he asks, and I grin.

"I loved it," I tell him. The game was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. To see people zooming back and forth in _mid-air_ on _broomsticks!_ It was truly spectacular. He smiles at me.

"Maybe we can go to another one sometime – perhaps for some other team though," he suggests, and I smile at the prospect of more Quidditch.

"I love that idea," I tell him, and he chuckles quietly, regarding me thoughtfully.

"You remind me of Abby sometimes," he murmurs, and I pull back in confusion and a considerable amount of hurt. _Who in hell is Abby?_

"Who's she?" I ask, not quite able to keep the accusing tone out of my voice. He smile reassuringly.

"Aria and Sean's twelve-year-old sister. … Actually, thirteen-year-old now," he says thoughtfully. "Her birthday was last month."

"I remind you of a twelve-year-old?" I ask with mock indignity. He grins.

"Your enthusiasm. Abby's always so energetic and enthusiastic about everything – _especially_ Quidditch," Jake says with another small laugh. "And she's thirteen," he adds, pretending to be offended that I'd forget.

"Oh, gee, I'm _so_ sorry. Thirteen then," I say with sarcasm, grinning at him. He smiles back, and something in his expression changes slightly. I know that look. I pull away before he has the chance to lean in, not wanting to ruin our playful mood with his hot-headed kissing.

I don't understand him at all half the time. Actually, make that most of the time. Sometimes, he'll act all holy and such, insisting we can't be kissing like that, and then other times he'll be staring at me – just like he is now – and something makes him lean forward – much like he is right now – and press his lips against mine, and then he totally _loses_ it. It's like he forgets everything but me right in that moment, and nothing but our kissing matters to him. I can't say I dislike it, but it still confuses me.

Jake doesn't kiss me though, not like I'm expecting him to. He simply plants a sweet kiss on my cheek, smiling adorably. Then he pulls me back to him – I'd scooted away while trying to keep him from losing his head in kissing me so we could continue our bantering – and rests his chin on top of my head.

"I made the right choice," he whispers, more to himself than anything. "I made the right choice."

* * *

**A/N**: Whew! Took some focused thinking and a little cutting and pasting, but I finally got this done! It's not very long (not compared to the monster chapters I've been spoiling you with lately) but it'll have to do. I'm thinking we might not make it on only six more chapters for this story, so I've upped my absolute limit to thirty-five chapters. And for some of you who seemed concerned with the making of a fourth story, let me clear that up right now.

There _will_ be a fourth story, no doubt about it. I'm simply taking the already-planned second half of _this_ story and making it into a _new_ story. Otherwise, we would end up with a seventy-something chapter story and I don't want that. _So_ this story will end within a few more chapters (I'm hoping I can do it in under six more, but I'll not get my hopes up on that one), and then I'll be starting the fourth story asap. There won't be a huge wait between the end of this one and the beginning of the fourth like there was between the second and third. I'll be starting the fourth story as soon as I get this one done (or as soon as it takes me to write the first chapter for the fourth one after finishing this one).

If you have anymore questions, feel free to ask. Please review!


	25. If You Say So

**A/N**: I apologize for this chapter. It isn't very good. The ending part is alright (sort of), but overall, not one of my better chapters. However, I _think_ if I can keep my timeline moving, I might be able to work in Christmas the chapter after next (so number twenty-seven), but I'm not sure. I figure after twenty-seven, I could have one more bridge/filler chapter, then _maybe_ the birth of Jake and Danni's child. After that, I figure I'd need … maybe five more chapters to finish the story. I'm determined to keep it under thirty-five chapters, and I think I can do it. I'm pretty positive we won't make it under thirty unless I manage to fit Christmas _and_ Jake's birthday for _both_ sides of the story into one chapter (and that could get extremely long). So thirty-five is the absolute max. On with the show now!

One more side note, for anyone wondering exactly how my slightly warped timeline is going. It is currently the end of October (like, the last week or so). So at the end of the chapter, it would be the first week in November.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: If You Say So**

Danni

Chewing nervously on my lower lip, I peer out into the hallway. In the living room I can hear the television blaring, accompanied frequently by Craig's uproarious laughter or shouts of outrage. I try to take a calming breath, but I find myself holding it until I realize what I'm doing and let the air out again.

I know I have to tell my mum. A month has passed since that Quidditch game. Jake and I don't talk about it much anymore. In fact, Jake and I don't talk about much of anything anymore. School is in full swing now, and the teachers have all seemed to forget that we _do_ actually have other classes besides theirs; they all seem to think that their class and their class alone is the most important and that gives them the right to absolutely drown their students in homework.

So most of the time, I spend at least an hour – usually more – after school at Mrs. Parks', doing nothing but homework and studying, and by the time I finish, dinner is ready and I'm expected _home_ after dinner, so that all leaves very little time for conversation with Jake. Jake divides his time with me between staring aimlessly in my general direction while I study and burying his nose in some Quidditch magazine he got a subscription to earlier this month to keep himself busy.

The last two weeks, Jake's taken up a new habit – nagging me about telling my mum. Every time I so much as put my pencil down to blow my nose or get a glass of water, he jumps in with a hundred different reasons why I should stop procrastinating about it and just _tell _her. I finally got so fed up with him today that I ended up shouting at him that he was a nosy busybody, and that if he thought honesty was so important with parents that he should go find his _own_ mother and tell _her_. He just stared at me for about five seconds in shock before bursting out laughing and sticking his head back into his magazine. I left before my pride could be injured anymore.

So now I'm waiting for my mum to get home, not daring to venture out of my room until she does except for trips to the bathroom. I do my best to stay out of Craig's way, and he does his best to ignore my existence, and things run smoothly. It's just easier that way.

Hearing nothing in the house except the television and Craig's outbursts, I retreat back into my room, leaving the door open just enough to see if anyone walks down the hall on the way to the kitchen.

I lie down on the bed and stare morosely at the ceiling. I finished my homework over an hour ago – the teachers were a little more lenient today than usual. I sort of wish I hadn't let Jake get to me earlier – if I were still over there now, we'd be laughing and joking, or at least having an intelligent conversation. Instead, I'm lying on my bed, waiting for my mother to get home so I can tell her that in about seven months, she's going to be a grandmother. Oh, joy.

Just then I hear the TV in the front room mute. Craig's loud voice booms a greeting, and Mum's soft voice replies something. A second or so later the volume comes back on full blast. Their conversation must be over.

I wait two minutes before emerging from my bedroom and padding into the kitchen. Mum is sitting at our tiny excuse of a table, waiting for water to boil for tea. She looks exhausted. I stand there a few seconds, looking at her forlorn figure slumped in her chair. Once she was beautiful. She had long, sleek, shiny, curly brown hair that hung half-way down her back, which now hangs limp and dull and frizzy. She's not very old – barely forty – but all the stress of living with the time bomb that is Craig has left her looking aged and exhausted. She used to laugh and smile all the time. I don't think I've seen her truly smile since just after she got married to Craig.

After a minute or so, she looks up, sees me standing there, and beckons for me to join her at the table. I oblige, sinking into a chair across from her. She attempts a smile at me, but it comes out as more of a grimace, and she sighs wearily.

"How are you, dear?" she asks softly, not even really sounding interested. I try not to let my annoyance at that show; I shrug.

"Alright. Jake and I had a little bit of an argument today," I tell her. Her eyebrows lift in a half-hearted attempt at curiosity, but I can tell she doesn't actually care. I go on anyway, because I know I have to now. "Yeah. He … he's been on my case for awhile actually," I murmur, looking away. When I finally glance back she's looking at me in confusion.

"Who's Jake again?" she asks.

Anger flares in me faster than I thought possible. _Who's Jake?_ I've told her about him a thousand times in the last four months. Alright, maybe not quite that often, but I _have_ talked about him. And now she tells me that she's never been listening _at all?_ I stand up abruptly from the table.

"You know what? Forget it," I snap, shoving my chair back angrily. She looks up in half-interested surprise at my reaction. "Why do I even try talking to you?" I ask her in disgust. "You don't care."

I'm almost to the doorway when I hear her murmur, barely audible, "Maybe if you gave me something to care about." I whirl around at her, livid with her.

"How about _me?_ Your _daughter!_ Remember? You used to _listen_ to me, Mum! You used to _care_. Now I don't even know if I can say you _love_ me, Mother! I _need _you right now, and you just sit there not even bothering to pretend to be interested in what I have to say!" I shout at her, near tears now. She stares at me, and for once I can tell she's not pretending; I have her attention now.

"And if you can't care about _me_ for the sole fact that I'm your daughter, then maybe you should care about the fact that in seven months _I'm_ going to be a mum, and I have no idea how to do this … and I'm scared," I say in a much lower voice, and the words come out sounding strangled. Honest shock settles into her expression, and for just a moment I feel the satisfaction of finally having her full attention for the first time since Dad died.

"What on earth are you …?" she trails off, half rising from her chair. Actual concern fills her face.

"Mum, I'm pregnant," I manage, the words coming out as more of a sob.

"You're serious?" she asks incredulously. Tremulously, I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat while tears well in my eyes. She stands and crosses the small room, closing the space between us. It surprises me to discover I'm just a tiny bit taller than she is. But that doesn't matter as she wraps her arms around me – the first time she's done so since Craig started drinking.

It's awkward at first, but she simply holds me and eventually I lean against her and wrap my arms around her in return. I don't let myself cry – Craig could walk in at any time, and he has low tolerance for tears – but I let her comfort me. I let her lead me back to the table, sit me down and stroke my hair. I let her ask me questions – about Jake, about Mrs. Parks, about school, about the baby. I answer them all, and even put in some comments unprompted. For the first time in years, we really talk.

I hang around in the kitchen, still talking with her while she cooks dinner. I feel as though some huge weight's been lifted off my chest and I can finally _breathe_. For the first time in years Mum really takes charge.

"We'll have to schedule you a doctor's appointment you know," she says from the stove where she's adding something to some pot of something or other. Whatever it is, it smells delicious. I can't even remember the last time she cooked something that smelled so amazing. Probably when she and Craig were dating.

"I know," I answer. In the last half hour or so, I've figured out that two or three word answers suit her best – she simply won't shut up once you get her talking.

"And I want to meet his Jake boy," she adds sternly, turning and shaking her spoon at me. I nearly laugh at the sight, but manage to refrain. "And have a good long talk with Mrs. Parks as well," she continues thoughtfully, "about the behavior of that boy of hers."

"It wasn't Jake's fault," I say automatically.

"It's just as much his fault as it is yours," Mum insists. "The two of you were very irresponsible you know," she says crossly. I can't even manage to feel ashamed for it. All I feel is this completely unreasonable joy at having my mum back – if only temporarily.

"I know," I say as gravely as I can manage. She catches something in my tone anyway and casts me a glare. I smile at her and she sighs, shaking her head in disappointment. I can tell her heart isn't in it though, and I can see the faint smile tugging at her lips.

"You said seven months?" she asks, and this time I feel a twinge of guilt. I nod reluctantly, and she gives me a confused and slightly hurt look. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asks softly.

"I was afraid," I admit, averting my eyes from hers. "And … I didn't know how you'd react," I murmur, settling for the half truth of the matter. I glance back at her to see she's looking away uncomfortably, and I can tell she caught the underlying reason behind my words.

"We don't have to tell him just yet," she says to me with a small smile that's meant to be reassuring. I just nod, not wanting to think about what Craig may or may not do when he finds out about Jake and me.

"Hey, what smells so good?" a voice says from the hall. I cringe instinctively at the voice I've heard so many times screaming at my mother over the last few years, telling her how worthless and stupid she is. Mum smiles however as Craig comes lumbering into the room, sniffing the air appreciatively.

"Dinner is what smells so good," she says. Craig grins and sidles up behind her at the stove, peering over her shoulder curiously. He wraps his arms around her waist, drawing her close. When he leans down and whispers in her ear, she smiles and reaches up to kiss him. He hugs her tight and for just a second I see a flicker of discomfort and pain flit across her face, but it's gone quickly when he loosens his grip. I saw it though, and the sight was enough to remind me that Mum really hasn't changed, and Craig never will.

"I'll be in my room," I announce, standing abruptly and leaving the room. Before I close my door I hear Craig ask,

"What's _her_ problem?" I don't hear Mum's reply.

x.x

Ron

I glance up when I hear footsteps in the hall outside my study. A second later Keira appears in the doorway, looking uncertain about interrupting me. I set my quill down and beckon for her to come inside. She does so and closes the door softly behind her.

"What's wrong?" I ask as she perches on the old settee. She wrinkles her nose at it distastefully as she sinks down into the cushions.

"Hey now," I say mock-sternly. "Be nice to that old sofa. The two of us have been through a lot together." Keira rolls her eyes, but it got a smile out of her. I get up and walk around the desk to join her, sensing she didn't just come here for idle conversation.

"How … have you talked to Aria lately?" she asks uncertainly as I sit down beside her.

"I saw her this morning before she left for work, why?" I ask, worry suddenly striking through me. "Did something happen to her?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Keira says quickly. "I just … she never talks to us anymore, Ron. I have no idea what's going on her life. And yet, something has changed in the last month. She sits at the table – doesn't talk, but still sits with us – and she just seems happier, don't you think? Sure, she's not skipping around singing and throwing flowers or anything, but she's not … hopeless anymore. What changed, Ron?" She sounds so worried that I realize I should be taking her seriously.

"Well … isn't it a good thing if she's happier?" I ask, just a bit confused by this.

"Well, yes. But, I just wish I knew _why _she's suddenly so much better. I wish she'd talk to us. I feel … I feel like we're losing her," she says, and actual tears well in her eyes. I stare at her in surprise for a few seconds before recovering.

"No, Keira, we're not losing her," I assure her. "We're getting her _back_. Slowly. It will still be awhile until she's completely healed; I know you understand that." She nods.

"We can talk to her tonight," I say to appease her. "We'll sit her down and the three of us will have a good long talk, alright? No need to get so upset over it," I say gently, reaching over and hugging my wife comfortingly. She sighs, lets out a small laugh, and wipes at her eyes.

"I'm being so silly," she sighs, and I squeeze her shoulder.

"Not silly," I insist. "Just a good mum." She smiles at that.

"Sometimes I almost forget that she's _not_ my daughter," she murmurs, glancing up at me somewhat apologetically. I smile back at her.

"No crime in that. Hermione would have wanted it that way," I tell her confidently. Keira nods. Hermione has always been an extremely sore subject between us, and we usually do our best to avoid discussions that involve her, but sometimes it can't be helped. Aria is a constant reminder of what Hermione and I once were – or almost were I guess. Over the years, Keira and I have reached a sort of middle ground where Hermione is involved.

"I wish I could have gotten to know her better," sighs Keira now. "We were just starting to tolerate each other," she adds with a soft smile, and I chuckle at that. It's true enough.

"I think she would have grown to like you," I murmur, kissing her gently. She smiles up at me lovingly.

"I don't know about that," she sighs sadly. "But I think we would have reached some sort of understanding of each other. She really cared about you, you know."

"Aria was her life," I answer. "Aria always came first. It never … I don't think we would have worked out," I lie. In all honesty, I still don't know how that summer would have played out if Hermione hadn't died. I hate to think I would have done something I would have regretted, but I very well could have. Hermione and I didn't always see eye-to-eye, but there was never any doubt concerning how we felt about each other – at least not on my end.

"You're a dirty liar," Keira replies, but she says it gently to let me know she means no offense by it. "You and Hermione were perfect together, and don't you dare try to deny it."

"_We're _perfect together," I answer, kissing her neck. She leans back against me, pressing into my chest, and sighs again.

"That's true," she concedes with a soft smile. Then she pulls away and looks back up at me, her expression serious again.

"Do you think you could have done it?" she asks, and when I open my mouth to ask what she means by that, she continues. "Do you think you could have ever just stood by and let Hermione live her life – been just her friend – despite the fact that you were in love with her?"

I puzzle over that for a minute. I have the distinct feeling this isn't about me anymore. We've come back to Aria again. "I don't know," I say slowly. "_Maybe_. But …" I look at her, straight in the eye, my wonderful wife, my closest friend. "I doubt it," I say honestly. A muscle in her jaw twitches slightly, but she just nods. "You're right – I was in love with her. Maybe part of me is still in love with her. But I love _you_, too, Keira. You have to understand that."

"Oh, I know," she says reassuringly, casting me another small smile. "Part of me is still in love with David, and he's been dead over eighteen years." David is Sean's biological father. I still wish I could have met the man, if only to tell him what a great man his son's become. Keira's told me about him a thousand times – he was a few years older than me, and they'd just gotten engaged when he was killed in the aftermath of the war. From what she's told me, he was a great man who'd loved her a lot and had been really looking forward to the birth of their son.

Sean has asked about him a couple times over the last few years, but he seemed to do it more because it was expected than because he actually wanted to know. I think he accepted a long time ago that his "first father", as he refers to him, isn't here, and I am, and that's the end of it. Besides that, it always upsets Keira to a certain degree to talk about David. It's not as bad as it was when Sean was little – back then we hardly ever discussed him, as it could send Keira spiraling into depression for weeks on end. As Sean grew older and as _our_ relationship grew though, she got better at talking about him. It was a closure thing for her. It was the same thing Aria went through with her mum, only in the extreme. Aria was angry – furious - where Keira was just devastated.

"Do you realize how strange this is?" I ask her as something occurs to me. She glances up at me with half a grin before seeing how serious I am. Her smile slips away, and she sits up.

"What?"

"Well, think about it. You lost David, but you found me," I start, and she smiles slightly. "I lost Hermione, but I found _you_," I continue, kissing her softly before going on. "And now, Aria has lost Jake, but who has she found, Keira? I thought for awhile there that maybe Drew…"

"The boy can hardly hug her, let alone comfort her when she goes into one of her episodes," Keira snaps in annoyance at the mention of Aria's friend. Then her face softens, and her expression becomes sad again. "Jake was the one she always turned to. Jake knows how to handle her."

"It's instinct with him," I tell her. "He and Aria have been thick as thieves since she came to live with us. It's only natural that he feels comfortable enough with her to know how to react around her when she's like that. And if they weren't completely in love with each other, they'd still be as close as any brother and sister I ever saw – just look at Sean and Aria. Sure they fight-"

"And when they do it would be in your best interest to flee the country," Keira interrupts, and I allow a grin for the truth in that.

"-but they're always _there_ for each other. Have you ever seen two siblings as close as those two? I mean it's like they can read each other's minds half the time. If you didn't know any better you'd say they were twins," I finish.

"It helps that they didn't even know they were related until they were twelve years old," Keira comments, and I have to agree.

"And that they were already best friends before they knew. It would have been pretty disastrous if they'd been sworn enemies or something," I put in.

Keira laughs at that, but I can't manage it. Talking about all of this has dragged up old memories of Hermione and the thought is depressing. We were just starting to feel comfortable around each other again. She had _hugged_ me as she said good-bye. She and Aria had been planning on spending the summer with us at Harry's. And I never even had the chance to tell her how much I cared about her. _Then again, maybe that's for the best._

"Hey, you alright?" asks Keira, her hand soft on my face. I look at her and try to smile. She gives me a sympathetic look. "You still miss her, huh?"

I sigh. "I'll always miss Hermione," I tell her quietly, and she winces. "But I know that I'll always have you, and that makes it all much less horrible," I whisper, kissing her gently. She smiles as she pulls back.

As she opens her mouth to reply – probably something sarcastic by the little smirk on her face – the front door opens.

"Dad? Mum?"

"Keira! Dad!"

"Sean _and_ Aria?" Keira asks with raised eyebrows. "To what do we owe this pleasure?" she mumbles to me as she stands. I smile and follow her into the kitchen.

x.x

Aria

I can tell Dad doesn't like the idea at all. When Sean showed up just as I was getting off of work and asked if I wanted to go with the team to Greece next week, I jumped at the chance. I turned right around and walked back upstairs to ask Eva if I could get the time off. She looked at me in silence for an entire minute, scrutinizing me.

Finally she heaved this great sigh and said in a very grave voice, "I suppose." Then she smiled and told me how glad she was that I'm doing better and that she hoped I'd have a great time in Greece.

Only now of course, I have to sell Dad on the idea. Technically, he can't say no, seeing as I'm of age and if I wanted to, I could just move out and then he'd have no say in my life at all. But I'd miss having him and Keira and Henry around all the time. Besides that, the thought of moving out sort of scares me. Like … it would mean that I really do have to grow up or something. I don't know.

Keira of course took one look at my face and declared that she thought it was a great idea. Dad gave her the dirtiest look at that; it was almost funny.

"Aria, what about work?" he asks now, raising his eyebrows at me.

"I already asked Eva; she said I could have the time off," I say matter-of-factly. He sighs.

"I just don't like it," he mutters.

"Dad, c'mon. It's not like she'll be the only girl there or anything – there _are_ women on the team you know," Sean jumps in. "And they all really like Aria. Besides that, I know Al would love to see her again," he adds with a grin at me. I roll my eyes at him. He's convinced himself that Al and I are soul mates.

"Al? Who's Al?" asks Dad a bit sharply.

"He's a _friend_," I say, shooting a look at Sean. "And he's Sean's Captain." Al has been a good friend in the last few weeks. I did go out and buy a cell phone, but so far I haven't found great need for it after the first week of having it. No one else I know has a phone – with the exception of my mum's parents, but I haven't spoken to them in years. Sometimes Al will call just to check up on me – if it wasn't so sweet I'd find it annoying. I'm not entirely sure Sean realizes that I've been talking to Al, however.

"Ron, I really think it would be a nice change for Aria to have a vacation," Keira puts in, and I smile at her gratefully.

"And it's only four days," Sean adds. "Besides, I bet Aria's just _dying_ to have a go with the team again," he says with a wink. I smile at him. It _was_ really fun last time.

"Well … I guess there's no harm," Dad mumbles reluctantly. I smile at him, and a slow smile creeps across his face. "When do you leave?" he asks.

"Tuesday morning," Sean says. "And we'll be back Friday evening or Saturday morning."

"You'll be back Friday," Dad says in a tone that leaves room for no arguments. Sean studies his serious expression before nodding slowly.

"Aria will be back Friday night," he says. "I can't speak for the rest of us. I don't command the team." Which isn't necessarily true, because I still remember how everyone shut up and listened when he spoke at the last game I attended.

"Fine. Now, are you staying for supper or not?" Keira asks, suddenly standing and taking command. Sean grins his agreement and nods eagerly, and Keira smiles before coming round the table and hugging him. "Good; I missed you."

.x.

A persistent buzzing noise wakes me from my dreamless sleep – one of the few I've gotten as of late. Groggily, I reach for the source of the disturbance – the stupid little cell phone Al made me get. I set it to vibrate so it wouldn't wake me up in the middle of the night, and yet the sound of it thrumming against the wood of my nightstand is enough wake the dead.

"What?" I snap, knowing it's Al – who else would it be?

"Someone's crabby," he comments, sounding amused.

"I was _asleep_," I mutter darkly.

"Well, good thing I called then, because I've been assigned "Aria duty", and I'm going to be at your house to collect you in ten minutes. Thought I'd give you a heads up in case you weren't ready. Good thing, huh?"

"What? What time is it?" I ask, shocked.

"Five … forty-two. AM," Al replies. I scramble out of bed and start reaching for clothes.

"How could I have overslept? I set my alarm for five thirty," I grumble to him as I dig through drawers for something to wear. As I look for some clean underwear, I come across the Quidditch jersey Sean got me for my birthday. I toss it into my duffle bag – which thankfully, I thought to pack last night.

"Maybe it stopped working," suggests Al. From his tone, I can almost see him shrugging nonchalantly, and I smile. I glance at the clock to see if this is true. The numbers shine out at me – 5:43.

"Nope," I reply. I go over and hit the button that will show me the alarm settings. It _is_ set for five thirty … pm. "I set it for five thirty at night by mistake," I tell him, and he lets out an amused snort.

"That would do it," he comments.

"Okay, I'm going to go now. I have to get ready. Ten minutes?" I ask.

"Ten minutes. If you're not at the front door by then, I'm letting myself in," he threatens. I dig through my wardrobe more frantically. I can just imagine Dad's reaction to finding Al in his kitchen at five fifty in the morning.

"Right, see you," I answer, hanging up. I finally find suitable clothing and hurry to pull it on. I scrape my hair into ponytail, throw some extra clothes into my bag, grab my wand in one hand and the nuisance of a phone in the other and, looking around once more to make sure I didn't forget anything, apparate down into the kitchen. I wouldn't want to wake anyone by clomping down the stairs like a Clydesdale weighted down with all my stuff.

In the kitchen, I dig around for something I could eat for breakfast. Finally finding a box of cereal bars that Henry normally guards jealously, I take one and shove the rest back into the cupboard. He won't miss one measly bar.

I sit at the table and eat my sparse breakfast while trying to tug my shoes on one-handed. I just about have the first one on when there's a light tapping at the front door. I look up to see Al's face in the window, smiling. I grin and wave at him to come in.

"Hey," he whispers, coming over and sitting down in the chair next to me at the table. "Almost ready?"

"Yeah, just let me get my shoes on," I reply. I finish tying my shoes, cram the rest of the cereal bar into my mouth, and slip on my sweatshirt. Autumn has started to give way to something between fall and winter now so near the beginning of November. No snow has actually fallen yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if it started soon.

"Ready now?" he asks, and I smile at him.

"Yeah," I answer, grabbing my stuff. He leads the way outside, and I gently close the door behind us. Then he holds out his arm for me to take. I look at him questioningly.

"Just grab on," he says with a roll of his eyes. Shrugging, I take Al's arm and hold on. He twists around and suddenly we're in the middle of apparition. When the pressure lifts, I find myself standing in the middle of an unfamiliar grove of trees. I look up at Al curiously.

"We're meeting up with the rest of the team here, and then we're taking a ferry to the island we're staying on. They should be showing up any time-" He's cut off by the arrival of several familiar Quidditch players.

"Damn," Lecksi says when she sees us. She nudges Kyle McKeown, one of the Beaters on the team. "You were right. I was so sure we'd beat them."

"Nice to see you too," Al jokes, and they both smile at him as more people arrive. Sean nearly bowls me over when he appears just beside me, knocking me into Al, who catches me and sets me back on my feet, laughing.

"I know my good looks must make me irresistible, but really, Aria, this is getting ridiculous," he says. I grin at him, but not before I see Sean's incredulous expression at our exchange.

"What can I say, Al?" I joke back. "I can't stand up to the powers of your charm." I smile at him teasingly, but that doesn't mean I don't notice his arm still wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him. I try to will myself not to feel uncomfortable with the close contact. I look over at Sean to see him staring at me in disbelief.

x.x

Sean

I don't know what to make of the fact that Al is flirting with Aria. Well, that part I can sort of live with. A lot of guys act that way around Aria. The part I really can't believe is that Aria … for the most part, Aria seems to be flirting back. She frowns at me when she sees me staring, and I look away.

Dad commented to me after supper last week that Aria has seemed to be doing better since that last Quidditch game. It didn't even register that maybe Al had something to do with it. I see the way she looks down a bit uncomfortably at his arm still wrapped possessively around her waist, but she doesn't pull away. It's a start. Maybe she doesn't think of him as any more than a friend … _yet_. I have to give it a chance. I think Al would be good for her if she would let him in. And ... I think he could love her if she'd let him, if the way he's looking at her now is any indication.

x.x

Al

"You were awesome!" Aria shouts over the noise of the crowd, throwing her arms around my neck. I grin and hug her close. The last three days have been extremely … _interesting_ if nothing else. Aria has kept mostly to herself, but I've noticed her joking with Lecksi every now and then. I think she's found a new friend in our Keeper. I'm glad for her. Lecksi is a wonderful person – she always has something to laugh about, and I think that's good for Aria.

Sean has kept a close eye on his sister, and every time I get anywhere near her, he spends half the time just _staring_ at me, as though trying to read my mind or something. It's kind of disconcerting. I can't tell if he's trying to tell me to stay away from Aria or what. If that were the case, why wouldn't he just _say_ something? It's weird to look over and see him just _watching_ me. Aria doesn't seem to notice.

Now however, Sean is hugging Maya and Lecksi and congratulating them on our win. It was a close game – there was only a twenty point difference in the final score – but we won it in the end. Carrie pulled through for us exactly when we needed her with the Snitch.

Aria lets go of my neck and steps back, flushed and excited, still grinning up at me. "You were all great," she says breathlessly. "That was such an amazing game."

"I'm glad you were here to see it," I say to her, and she just grins some more. Actually, I'm just glad she's _here_, period. I hug her again just to be able to be close to her, and she laughs. The sound sends a thrill up my spine.

"Me too," she answers, still smiling at me. For just a second I forget about the fact that she's still trying to get over Jake. I forget what she looked like that day he showed up at the Quidditch pitch. I wrap my arms around her waist and draw her close to me, forgetting how she doesn't like it when I do that.

"Al…" she says uncomfortably, putting her hands on my chest like a barrier between us. I blink and everything comes rushing back. _What am I doing?!_

"You're our best fan, you know, Aria," I tell her with a grin, and she smiles nervously. I give her a quick hug and release her, and relief floods her face. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," I add, and she shrugs.

"No harm, no foul," she murmurs with half a smile. I grin at her and sling an arm around her shoulders. She only stiffens slightly this time, and relaxes again a few seconds later. It's a work in progress.

x.x

Danni

It's been a week since I told Mum. She wanted me to invite Jake over for _dinner_. I told her she was crazy and that if she wanted to meet him so badly she could get her butt over to Mrs. Parks' house for dinner because I sure as hell was not bringing _him_ over _here_. She just told me she would expect him on Thursday.

So now Jake, Mum, Craig, and I are sitting around our tiny kitchen table in a very awkward silence. Mum's pretty much exhausted all talk of Jake – he just graduated, he's working at the coffee shop, he's looking for a better job, saving money to get a place of his own, etcetera. Craig gave Jake a quick once-over when he walked in the door, glared up at him (Jake has half a head on him), and stalked into the kitchen without a word. He hasn't spoken since. I think if this pattern continues, I might invite Jake over more often.

"So, Jake, what kind of work are you interested in starting?" Mum asks now. Jake pushes his peas around uncomfortably with his fork.

"I'm not really sure," he mumbles.

"You'll need a good job," she says, and he glances up at her, his eyes flashing slightly.

"I realize that," he says calmly, but I can hear the angry undercurrent in his tone. He really _has _been trying lately. But, like he said, he hasn't found anything he really wants to do. He's been pulling extra shifts at the coffee shop, really _trying_ to earn more money.

"Well, maybe at first it would just be better to find a job that pays well and that you're halfway decent at, and then later you could find something you really enjoy," Mum suggests, and I see a muscle in Jake's jaw jump angrily.

"Perhaps," he agrees stiffly. Craig looks back and forth between them with something akin to curiosity, but says nothing.

"Because I can't imagine you'd be able to pay rent on a busboy's salary," she continues, oblivious to what her goading is doing to poor Jake.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't," he manages levelly.

"And you'll have other needs that will cost more money as well," adds Mum. I lay a hand on Jake's knee in hopes of calming him. He just shoves my hand away.

"Yes, well that's the whole point of _looking_ for another job," he says. I cast a pleading look at Mum, hoping she'll stop, but she doesn't see.

"Well perhaps you should look a little harder. Instead of lying around your grandmother's house, maybe you should be out actually searching for a job in the afternoons."

Jake stares at her, anger burning in his dark eyes, but he just nods slowly. "I suppose so."

"Yes, you _suppose_. But you don't actually _do_ that do you?"

"Who are you to suggest I don't?" asks Jake, his voice soft and deadly. I can see him clenching and unclenching his fists underneath the table, fighting for control. I see his wand in his pocket and notice his right hand lying mere centimeters away from it.

"I'm a mother who is worried about the well-being of my daughter when she's over at a house I used to consider _safe_ for her to visit!" Mum says, finally losing it.

"You think she's _not_ safe there?" Jake asks, still fighting not to lose his calm demeanor.

"Honestly? _No!_" Mum exclaims angrily.

"Mum," I plead, glancing at Craig to see him growing annoyed with their endless bickering.

"I'd bet she's safer over there than she is in her own bed at night," Jake whispers dangerously, and Craig's eyes snap up to his face.

"Jake," I whisper in disbelief as Craig moves his gaze to mine. I can see the anger in those pale eyes, the loathing and contempt there. I feel a sliver of fear crawl up my spine. Very carefully I look up at Jake, whose face is pale and worried now, looking very regretful of what he's just said. _"What have you done?" _I breathe.

"Out," Craig orders, standing up abruptly. His chair falls over with a loud bang. Jake stands up slowly, still looking calm despite the anger and fear I can feel radiating from him. Or maybe that's my own anger and fear.

"Sir, I didn't mean-"

"OUT! You will not speak to my wife in my house like that, boy. And you will _not_ suggest that my step-daughter is not safe in her own home! What exactly are you trying to say there, boy?" Craig asks angrily, grabbing Jake by the collar and dragging him to the front door. He yanks it open and all but throws Jake onto the front walk.

"Please, sir, I really didn't mean-"

"Enough! You are not welcome here again, you understand me? And you stay away from Danielle from now on."

Jake's eyes move to my face, and I suddenly realize that the fear I see there isn't for himself. _I'm sorry_, he mouths as the door slams in his face.

"I thought," Craig says now, turning and glaring hatefully at me, "that I taught you not to tell lies." I back away from him down the hall, but he just follows me, fury and loathing evident in every crevice in his face.

"Craig, it wasn't Danni's fault," Mum says from the kitchen doorway, suddenly looking much more terrified than she did the _last_ time I told "lies" to people outside our _"family"_.

"I was sure you'd learned your lesson last time, little girl," Craig growls as he advances toward me. I back up again, only to find myself pressed against the wall.

"I did," I say softly. "I did."

"Apparently, you didn't. This time, maybe you'll _remember_ it," he snarls, and his hand is suddenly colliding with my cheek, _hard_. I clench my teeth against the pain that erupts where he hit me.

"Craig, please," Mum whispers. "Please let her be."

"Shut up, woman. She needs to learn a lesson."

"She has, Craig. Just leave her alone."

Craig whirls on her. "I say she hasn't, so _shut up!" _he yells, shoving her. She trips over his fallen chair and lands on the floor with a small cry. She lies there for a moment before hauling herself up and sitting in her own chair at the table, clutching her wrist to her chest. She casts me an apologetic look and says nothing as Craig comes back over to me. I feel a sudden surge of hatred for both of them.

"Thanks for nothing, Mum," I spit at her, throwing her the dirtiest look I can manage. Then a large hand clamps down on my upper arm and twists painfully. I cry out in shock and pain, but the pressure doesn't lift.

"Respect your mother," Craig growls in my ear, and the fear returns tenfold. His fingers dig into my arm as he jerks me forward. A hand twists itself into my hair, forcing my face upward. He's only a little bit taller than me, but he glares down nonetheless. "You're going to learn a little lesson about telling lies now," he says, and I'm sickened at the satisfaction of having me in a vulnerable position I see in his eyes.

"You're pathetic," I snarl at him, while a part of my brain screams at me to shut my stupid mouth.

"What was that?" he asks, pulling on my hair, twisting my neck into a highly uncomfortable position. Despite this, I can't seem to tame my run-away mouth.

"You. Are. Pathetic. You have to beat up on women to feel better about yourself because you're so incompetent and lazy that you can't make anything of yourself in the real world. So you sit around drinking all day and then beat up on your wife when she gets home so you won't feel like such a loser," I tell him. The hand on my arm moves to my neck.

"Say that again, kid," he dares me, squeezing with just enough pressure to make it slightly difficult to breathe.

"You know," I say with some difficulty, "people at school are going to wonder why I have a huge bruise on my face tomorrow. And they'll probably be _really_ curious to know why I have finger marks on my neck. And I bed they'd _love_ to see that handprint you left on my arm."

"Oh, I don't think you'll feel up to going to school tomorrow," he assures me, and my cockiness vanishes instantly. Terror worms its way in again, making it even harder to breathe. Craig shoves me away from him suddenly, sending me sprawling onto the floor. He looms over me, and I curl into a ball instinctively, wrapping my arms around my stomach and hiding my face in my arms. He doesn't even kick me that hard – but the hard toe of his boot catches me just so between two of my ribs that pain shoots up my back instantly.

"Have any other smart-arse remarks to make now?" he taunts, digging the toe of his boot between those two ribs again, making me writhe. I raise my head to look up at him carefully. The pressure between my ribs lessens slightly as he waits. I'm about to open my mouth to tell him exactly where he should shove that boot of his when something catches my eye. From my position on the floor in the hall, I can just see the front window in the living room, curtained as it is. And in the tiny gap between the curtains, I see flashing lights. I look back up at Craig, letting him see my disgust and loathing for him.

"I hope you burn in hell," I tell him. He hauls me up from the floor and holds me by the front of my shirt, his face millimeters from mine.

"Say that again?" he whispers dangerously.

"Burn. In. Hell," I say slowly. And then I spit in his face. His fist makes a sickening crunch when it pounds against my jaw, but I can barely feel it over the triumph that erupts in my chest when the front door flies open and a half dozen men stand there in uniform, all of them pointing handguns at my stepfather.

"Freeze!" someone yells, and Craig's hands release me instantly, flying into the air. He doesn't even argue with them when they come forward and slap the handcuffs on him. It feels like a scene from a movie as they lead him away with a gun barrel nestled against his back. One of the men comes forward and crouches down in front of me – did I fall to the floor?

"Are you alright?" he asks, his hands gentle as he turns my face to see the damage. I just stare at him in surprise. He calls out to one of the others, and another man comes and gets down in front of me.

"Think she's going into shock?" the first on asks worriedly. The second one waves a hand in front of my face. I blink up at him, then look away, only to do a double take. Over his shoulder, standing just inside the door, Jake is looking around anxiously.

"Jake," I whisper, and the two men in front of me exchange confused glances. "Jake!" I say, trying to speak louder, but it hurts to raise my voice, and I don't manage much more than a normal speaking tone, which can't be heard now over what I now realize are sirens. Sirens?

Two more men lead my mother from the kitchen. She's shaking and pleading with them not to take Craig, and the pity in their eyes breaks my heart. My mother truly has become a pitiful creature.

"Miss? Miss, can you hear me?" The guys in front of me are talking again. I look up at them and nod.

"I want Jake," I tell them, and they look at each other again. I raise my uninjured arm to point to him. The first officer looks at the second one, shrugs, and gets up. He walks over to Jake, speaks to him, and seconds later he's at my side, his arms sliding around me.

"I'm here," he whispers. "Oh, Danni, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything," he groans, looking at my face. I feel my jaw throb painfully then, and I wince, but doing so causes a surge of pain to go through my cheek.

"No," I whisper back as best as I can, leaning against him. "You did the right thing. Thank you," I say and tears well up in my eyes then. I bury my face against him and let myself cry, finally feeling the overwhelming pain and fear. He doesn't hug me, but he kisses my neck – seeing as the side of my face he can reach is kind of damaged at the moment – to comfort me.

"We really should take her to the hospital to make sure there's no permanent damage," one of the men says, and Jake nods. He helps me stand and wraps an arm around my waist in case I suddenly keel over or something I guess.

"I can walk," I assure him, but he just shrugs and walks beside me – with his arm still wrapped protectively around me – outside. I'm surprised to see several police cars, two ambulances and even a fire truck outside. I look up at Jake questioningly, and he just smiles in a slightly strained way as he helps me to an ambulance.

"I don't need an ambulance," I mutter, but he just shakes his head and climbs in beside me. A minute or so later the doors shut and we're driving away.

x.x

Jake

I couldn't believe I said that to Danni's stepfather. Her mum was just making me so mad I couldn't think straight, and I forgot that Craig was even there until I said all that stuff about Danni not being safe. Stupid.

So as soon as I got back to Gran's, of course the first thing I did was call the police. They were quick about getting here, but obviously not quick enough. Looking at Danni's face makes me sick. What kind of man would hit his wife or daughter – even if she was just his step-daughter? That didn't give him the right to smack her around.

They decided to keep Danni overnight at the hospital, despite her extremely loud and colorful insistences that she was fine. She had a right fit about it, which I thought was kind of funny actually, but she lost in the end, though that didn't do much to stop the dark mutterings from coming out her mouth.

And then when they found out she was pregnant, they whisked her away to somewhere or other – and made me stay here – for more tests and stuff like that. So now I'm sitting in an empty hospital room, staring at my reflection in the dark window. I look … different somehow. I can't place it. I can't have changed much since the beginning of the summer. My hair is longer, hanging in my eyes and getting in the way all the time now, but other than that, nothing is noticeably different. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that there's _something_…

"You okay?"

I whirl around to see Danni standing in the doorway, watching me. I attempt a smile at her, but when she comes closer I can clearly see the defined bruises on her face and neck, and the smile disappears.

"I should ask you the same thing," I answer, and she shrugs, then winces at the movement.

"I have a nasty bruise on my back between two of my ribs, a very good impression of Craig's hand on my left arm, and my face keeps _throbbing_, but other than that, yeah, I'm great," she says with a sorry attempt at a joke. I can't smile at that either, and she sighs.

"I don't know what would have happened if not for you," she whispers, coming up to me and looking at me with tears in her eyes. "I think you saved my life."

"Don't say that," I murmur, seriously disturbed by that train of thought. Hesitantly, I slide my arms around her waist. She presses against me, resting her unbruised cheek against my chest and hugging me to her.

"I love you, Jake," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "I don't know where I'd be without you."

"You wouldn't be pregnant for one," I mutter, and she lets out a small laugh, squeezing me tight.

"I might not be alive," she replies, and I kiss the top of her forehead in response.

"You really think he would have killed you?" I ask in all seriousness. She pulls back slightly and looks up into my face.

"Maybe not this time," she answers. "But I think he _could_ have." I shudder at that and draw her close again.

"We won't have to worry about that again," I tell her, and she nods.

"I know. Thank you, Jake. My mum was so wrong about you," she tells me, and I laugh bitterly at that.

"I dunno; she kind of hit the mark on a couple there."

Danni looks up at me again, her face serious. I can tell from her expression that she doesn't appreciate the joke. "She was dead wrong," she says forcefully, reaching up and wrapping her right arm around my neck, her hand resting on the back of my head.

"If you say so," I agree to please her. I get a flicker of a smile for that.

"I do say so," she says, and I just go along with it. I nod at her. "I also say that you should kiss me," she whispers, looking at me hopefully. I grin at her.

"Okay," I say with a smile, leaning down and brushing a soft kiss against her lips. She smiles as I pull away.

"That wasn't a real kiss," she argues, still smiling. I shrug, then look up to see a nurse standing in the doorway looking annoyed that her patient isn't in bed.

"If you say so," I say again. "But I think your nurse is here to kick me out."

"No, stay here with me," she says, fear flashing through her eyes as I lead her to the bed. I glance at the nurse, and she starts toward us.

"He can stay can't he?" Danni asks, obediently lying down on the bed. "Please?" She suddenly looks much younger than seventeen, and afraid and alone. The nurse glances at me, bites her lip, and shrugs.

"I …" she looks at Danni's pleading expression and I see her resolve evaporate. "I suppose," she sighs, and Danni relaxes.

"I'll need to let my grandmother know," I tell Danni, and she nods at the telephone sitting near the bed. The nurse gives her a quick checking over before nodding at us both and leaving the room, still looking kind of wary of leaving me in here with Danni.

I call Gran to let her know Danni is safe and that she asked me to stay with her at the hospital. I have to say, Gran takes it extremely well. She doesn't argue when I say I'm staying here with Danni tonight, only tells me to wish her to get well soon and that she'll call Roberta for me to let her know I won't be into work tomorrow. That sort of surprised me (the not going into work thing I mean), but when I glanced back at Danni to see her watching me anxiously, I figured I could take a day off to spend some time with her. She's going to need me for awhile.

"So where do I get to sleep?" I ask, looking around for options. There's the window ledge, not long enough to actually sleep on, but certainly wide enough. There's a hard plastic chair and a slightly less hard armchair. There's the floor. And there's Danni's bed.

"The chair folds into a bed," that nurse says, and I jump when I see her standing in the doorway. Creepy how she does that. She comes forward to show me how the already uncomfortable armchair folds out into a tiny, even more uncomfortable-looking bed. I hunker down onto it as she goes to the door and shuts off the light, closing the door behind her.

I toss and turn for nearly ten minutes before I hear an exasperated sigh from Danni over on her roomy hospital bed.

"If you're going to do that all night, you might as well come up here and lie next to me," she grumbles. I don't wait for a second invitation. She slides over on the bed with a soft laugh. There's barely enough room for both of us, but if I lie on my side it works. Curling one arm under my head, I search awkwardly for a place to put my other arm.

Danni solves my problem for me by taking my hand and dragging it across herself until my arm is draped over her.

"There, that solves your dilemma, doesn't it?" she asks, squeezing my arm lightly. I hug her and smile.

"If you say so."

* * *

**A/N**: Well, it wasn't one of my better chapters, but it was certainly _long_ enough. I _might_ try to do Christmas next chapter. I'm not sure if I can make it work or not, but I guess I'll find out won't I? Please review!


	26. Upcoming Holiday

**A/N**: Okay, I'm _sorry_ for the huge delay! But I got you _two_ really long chapters, so you can't yell at me too much, okay? Please forgive any grammar/spelling errors. I was too tired to edit. Let me know if there are any problems that need correcting. Thanks, and enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Holiday Plans**

Danni

I spent a week home from school after getting out of the hospital. Mum told the school I was ill – I almost wished it were true. The bruises looked nasty; they _felt_ nastier. There are two across the left side of my face – both of them fist-sized; one across my cheek and the other spreading over my jaw. It hurts to smile too much, and for the first few days it was all I could do to talk or eat. All of the bruises have turned a nasty yellow-green color now though, despite not hurting so badly anymore. I've been telling people at school that I tripped and fell off our porch – never mind that we don't _have_ a porch, but how would they know?

My back still hurts though. It's fine as long as I don't move or breathe too much, but other than that it hurts like hell. I've learned to take short, shallow breaths, doing my best to space them as far apart as I can bear. It simply hurts too much. Lucky for me I've been excused from gym classes for a week or so due to my "porch accident" injuries.

Mum spent the first few days looking completely lost without Craig to boss her around. She's getting better, though I could do without her incessant apologies every time she catches sight of me trying not to breathe too deeply. I keep telling her that there was nothing she could have done – I don't hold anything against her for what happened that night. Craig would have only hurt her worse than he already had for trying to stop him – and he's a lot stronger than either of us.

The house has seemed strange without the constant presence of Craig and his blaring television though. It's so much quieter – it's almost eerie really. Sometimes I get so sick of the silence that I turn on a radio and blast it until Mum comes in and makes me turn it down. She says the music gives her a headache; what I don't get is why she never seemed to mind the TV on. Then again, I wouldn't have dared tell Craig to turn it down either.

Mum's been working with a lawyer this week, drawing up divorce papers. It's not that hard really – Mum's getting everything and Craig is getting a jail sentence and a restraining order. I'm sure in a few weeks we'll almost be able to forget he was ever around. We can finally get on with our lives.

.x.

Time passes too quickly over the next few weeks. Before I can even fathom what's happening, December is almost over and Christmas is nearly upon us. It surprises me when I wake up on the morning of the twenty-third to discover Christmas only two days away.

"You still haven't told me what you want for Christmas," Mum says over breakfast the day before Christmas Eve. I shrug, not looking up from my eggs.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "You don't have to get me anything."

"Nonsense. There must be something you want. I can think of a hundred things you'll _need_ in five months or so," she says, and despite myself I wince at that thought.

I've been trying to convince her for the last month and a half to let me be home schooled, not wanting to have to face what few friends I have at school when it becomes obvious that I'm pregnant. I'm already starting to show a little; one of the less tactful girls I eat lunch with commented the other day that she thought I'd gained some weight. I wanted to shout '_No duh, I'm PREGNANT!' _at her, but I figured that wouldn't do me any favors, so I refrained.

"Don't do that," Mum scolds, referring to my wincing. "You're going to have to own up to it sometime you know, Danielle." I hate it when she calls me Danielle; doesn't she know that? "And you can't hide it much longer," she adds, waving her hand at the oversized sweatshirt I threw on when I got out of bed. I can't hide it at all in my school uniform (hence that girl at lunch and her rude comments), but with school out for holiday, I've been dressing in sweatpants and sweatshirts. They're comfortable, okay?

"I know, Mum," I answer as I always do when she goes off on her spiels.

"Danielle," she starts, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at her, "you're going to have a baby. Deal with it. Repeat after me: I am going to have a baby."

I stare at her as though she's just asked me to strip naked and run down the street in the snow. She just looks at me expectantly though. "Say it," she commands, and I give her a slightly skeptical look before obeying.

"I'm going to have a baby," I say in the same sing-song voice she did, just to annoy her. She gives me a look for mocking her, but she nods approvingly anyway.

"Too right you are. You need to start acting less like a spoiled child." I gape at her. I do _not_ act like a spoiled child! When have I _ever_ been spoiled since Mum married Craig and he lost his job?

"I don't-" I start, but I'm cut off by the doorbell ringing. "I'll get it," I offer instantly, knowing (okay, hoping) who it is already. Mum smiles to herself as I jump up to answer the door.

"Hey," Jake says with an easy smile when I open the door for him. I grin back at him, glance over my shoulder, and pull his head down to kiss him. He laughs and wraps his arms around me, showering me in snowflakes as he gently steers me backward and steps inside.

"Nice to see you too," he jokes when I let go. He takes off his thick winter coat and hangs it on the hook beside the door. When he's finished, I smile at him and take his hand.

"We were just finishing breakfast," I explain, leading him to the kitchen. He smiles at Mum and takes a seat at the table when I do.

"Morning, Ms. Kline," he says politely. After finalizing her divorce from Craig, Mum switched back to the surname she took when she married Dad, the only difference being her insistence that everyone call her "Ms." I think it rather suits her.

"Good morning, Jake," Mum replies with a warm smile at him. She really likes Jake. He spends almost as much time over here as I spend at Mrs. Parks' nowadays.

"I came to see if Danni's decided what she wants for Christmas yet," he says, grinning at me. Mum gives me a pointed smile, and I groan at the both of them.

"I don't know!" I insist. "I can't think of anything I want! Just don't get me anything."

"I'm not going to get you _nothing_. In fact, I already have something in mind. What I came to ask you is whether you prefer gold or silver," he says with a sweet smile, and I stare at him suspiciously.

"How come?" I ask guardedly. We've had a hundred different discussions on what he is and isn't allowed to get me for gifts. So far we've ruled out anything electronic, books, clothes, and engagement rings (or any other type of ring for that matter), not that we've actually thought so far ahead as getting married – _if_ we ever get married that is.

"Just answer the question," he insists, and I sigh loudly.

"Fine. Gold," I answer, making sure to shoot him an annoyed look.

"That's the right answer," he quips, leaning over and kissing the side of my head. "You'd have made a great Gryffindor."

"What's a Gryffindor?" Mum asks, and Jake goes on to explain about the four houses of Hogwarts and their colors. It amazes me how he does all this without giving away a single detail that might make Hogwarts sound like anything other than a normal boarding school for normal students.

At the end of it, he turns and smiles at me. "Well, this was fun," he starts, and I feel my smile slip away. He always says that right before he leaves. "Hey, don't be like that," he says gently, seeing my expression.

"You're leaving," I accuse him, and he chuckles.

"Only for a little bit. I'll be back in an hour or two," he promises, holding out his hand to me. I take it with a sigh; he pulls me to my feet and leads me back to the front door.

"You don't have to buy me a present," I insist, hoping to make him stay longer. He just grins at me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

"I know, but I want to," he says softly, glancing quickly in the direction of the kitchen. "You deserve it after everything you've been through," he whispers before kissing me. When he pulls back, I stare up at him.

"I love you," I say, and he smiles as he kisses me softly again. I feel a twinge of sadness when he doesn't say it back, just like always.

"All the more reason to buy you a present," he says with a soft laugh that makes my stomach twist pleasantly. He kisses me one more time, soft, short, and sweet. "I'll be back soon, I promise. You and your mum are still coming over for supper tonight?" he asks, reaching behind him and picking his coat off the hook on the wall. I nod.

"Yeah, of course. And tomorrow night, and the night after that," I say with a grin. Jake smiles and opens the door, letting in a draft of cold air. I shiver, and he reaches out and puts one hand on my arm, suddenly looking serious. I look at him in confusion.

"Are you alright?" he asks, no trace of joking left in his dark eyes. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" The concern in his face makes me wonder if I don't _look_ okay. I glance down self-consciously.

"Yeah, why?" I ask, wondering if he can somehow read my mind; can wizards read minds? He bites his lip, glances at me, then away, as if unsure of what to say. His hand is warm on my arm, and I reach up and cover it with my own hand. His fingers lace into mine, and his other hand is suddenly under my chin, lifting it to make me look him in the eye.

"You seem …" he trails off, still biting his lip uncertainly. "You seem sort of sad," he says at last, shrugging apologetically.

"Why would I be sad?" I ask, trying – and failing – to give him a normal smile. It comes out as more of a wince.

"That's what I want to know," he says softly, his thumb stroking against my jaw where that ugly bruise used to be. "You know you can talk to me, Danni. I'm always here for you."

_Not always,_ I think, but I know that's not fair. He can't be there every single minute of my life; he already spends so much time with me anyway. He keeps watching me expectantly, and I sigh slightly.

"Go," I say reluctantly. "We can talk when you get back. I can wait." Instead, he shuts the door, hangs up his coat again, and puts an arm around my waist, steering me into the living room. I look up at him questioningly, but he just walks me to the sofa and sits down on it, pulling me with him.

"Talk to me, Danni," he says seriously, his arm tight around my waist, but not uncomfortably so. His fingers run up and down my side idly, a new habit of his whenever he holds me, and he waits for me to talk.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask, feeling immensely awkward about the way this conversation is going. Jake doesn't seem to notice that however.

"What's _wrong?_" he asks, starting to sound frustrated now.

"Nothing," I say, trying to sound convincing. "Really."

"Liar," he says accusingly, and his tone is harsher than usual. I pull back from him rather warily. When he sees my face, he reaches for me again, looking annoyed, but I back away. I hate it when he gets like this. It scares me and makes me seriously question how safe he is sometimes. He stares at me for a moment before blinking and shaking his head.

"Danni, I'm sorry," he says, the hostility and anger disappearing instantly. "I don't want you to be afraid of me. Please … come here," he says holding out one arm to me. I look at his face, searching for any lingering feelings of frustration and finding none. Hesitantly, I slide back into his arms, which wrap around me much more loosely than before. My fears dissolve away as I snuggle back into his side.

"Now, please, Danni, please talk to me," he begs, hugging me close. "I hate it when you're like this; it makes me feel like I'm worthless or something." I almost laugh at that. Worthless? Jake means everything to me – how could he be worthless? Instead, I venture to answer his pleading.

"I just … I keep realizing how much I don't want to do this," I murmur, grimacing at how awful that sounds.

"What?" he asks, sounding puzzled. I sigh again.

"I don't _want_ to be a mum, Jake," I say quietly. "I'll be horrible at it. What do I know about being a mother? I don't even _like_ kids. They're noisy and dirty and always _sticky_ for unknown reasons. And I'm only seventeen. I have my whole life ahead of me, and what am I doing? I'm going to be a _mum!_ _Jake, I don't want to be a mum_," I whisper, burying my face in his arm, which has gone stiff.

After awhile, I hear him sigh. "Danni…"

"But we don't have a choice," I interrupt, tears jumping to my eyes at the inevitability of it. "I…I couldn't just… give it up," I say, thinking of the tiny little life growing inside of me. "I know I wouldn't be able to. So what choice do I have?" My voice breaks, and he pulls me closer. I bite my lip to keep the tears from falling, and Jake kisses my neck softly.

"I know it's scary," he murmurs, and a sob chokes out of my throat. "But you said it yourself: What choice do we have, Danni? I'm not ready for this any more than you are, but that doesn't make a difference. We just have to get through it together and do our best."

"What if it's not enough?" I ask fearfully. He sighs.

"We just have to hope it is." I look up at him, see him watching me, his eyes pooling with concern and worry. He smiles gently and kisses my cheek. "I'm just as scared as you are," he whispers, and that's not a comforting thought at all. "But we just have to get through one day a time and try not to dwell on the future too much, okay? Just focus on today."

I nod, and he kisses me again. "Now," he murmurs, hugging me quickly. "I have some Christmas presents to buy."

x.x

Aria

_The look of pain in his eyes makes me ache. He hugs me quickly and pulls away before I can hug him back. When he speaks, his voice is strained. "I would tell you that I love you, but you don't want to hear it. You don't want to hear it… You don't want to hear it… You don't … want to … hear it…" Everything dissolves into darkness except his voice. "…Don't want to hear it…"_

Gasping, I jerk awake, shaking and sweating as though waking from a nightmare. I guess in a way, it is. My living nightmare. Gritting my teeth, I curl around my pillow, hugging it against my chest and hoping to quell the pain I feel. It's not fair. During the day I can function normally enough – I'm usually so busy I simply don't have _time_ to think about Jake, what with patients and classes and every single tiny, insignificant job in Wilifrom that the older trainees and interns see fit to defer to me.

It's the nights that I dread. I can't control what dreams my tired mind drags forth, and I certainly don't have the time to brew myself a Dreamless Sleep potion every night. Usually the dreams aren't too bad – happy memories of summers past with Jake and Sean and Skyla. Sometimes I just see his face, smiling gently at me. It's been more than two months since I've dreamt of the day I found out about him and Danni.

Another sharp pang goes through my chest when I remember that day. _He told me he loves me._ Why am I so stupid? I should have _insisted_ he take me with him, or made him stay. I should have _let him kiss me_ the night before he left – _why_ didn't I let him kiss me? I should have told him how I felt.

Frustrated with the hopelessness overwhelming me, I reach for the phone sitting on my bedside table. Hitting the speed dial, I bring it to my ear and wait. Al picks up on the second ring.

"Aria? What is it?" he mumbles, and I can tell I've woken him up. I glance at the clock to see it's three in the morning.

"I didn't realize what time it was," I apologize softly, and I can year him yawn.

"It's fine," he says sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"I dreamt about him again," I whisper, and the ache in my chest sharpens.

"What was it this time?" he asks, sounding more alert now; I can hear the concern in his voice.

"I-" Tears well up suddenly and my voice chokes. An odd whimpering noise escapes my throat, and I bite my lip to keep it from happening again.

"Aria?"

"He told me he loved me," I whisper, clenching my jaw. Tears manage to fall anyway, trickling across my nose and falling down my left cheek.

"Oh. Do … do you want to … talk about it?" he asks stiltedly, as though not quite sure what to say. Well … what _can _he say to that really?

Since Greece, I've found myself spending more and more time with Al. He's come over for dinner three times now. He calls me almost every day just to say hi – an experience I found highly odd at first, but now I expect it and feel a little disappointed when he forgets or has a game that runs late and can't call. He even joined Drew, Kay, and me for lunch one day when he was in the area, and they took to him instantly.

It's weird though, sometimes. I'll look over and catch him looking at me with the strangest expression on his face; I couldn't explain it really. And other times, he'll just slip an arm around me, hug me, and then slip away again with no explanation at all. I can't understand him. Right now, I'm not interested in anything more than friendship with Al, but at the same time it doesn't make me _un_comfortable to think he might fancy me, not the way it's always bothered me with Drew. I don't know why.

"…Aria, are you there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm here," I say, suddenly coming back to the present. "No … I really… I don't want to talk about him," I murmur. "I'm sorry for calling you so late."

"It's fine, Aria. You know you can call me any time; that's why I gave you my number in the first place, remember?" he says, yawning again. "So, what are you up to tomorrow?"

"Work," I answer with a sigh.

"On Christmas Eve?" he asks incredulously. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said they dished all of the sucky jobs out on you," he comments, and I smile.

"I volunteered for your information," I say teasingly. "I don't have anything else to do, and …" I trail off, thinking about the other reason I volunteered to work tomorrow.

"Keeps your mind off things," Al finishes quietly, and I nod even though he can't see me.

"Yeah," I whisper back. Christmas has always been tough for me. I never fail to remember my last holiday with Mum – that last Christmas we shared at Harry's with Dad and everyone. I'm sure it's not the easiest time of year for Dad either – he always spends at least part of the day just sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the fireplace, and I know he's remembering. A few years ago Dad and I went to visit Mum's grave the day after Christmas; it just felt right, so after that it became tradition.

The weirdest part of Christmas this year will be not having Jake or Abby here. Abby sent a letter a few weeks ago asking to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday – she's made even more friends, and they're all staying at school. And of course, Jake's off … somewhere. Probably stilled holed up with his grandmother and Danni. My stomach twists at that thought, but I shove it aside.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" I ask into the phone impulsively.

"Me? Um… Well, my mum's side of the family usually celebrates on Christmas Eve, and my dad's side isn't getting together this year because half of them are off traveling somewhere. So … nothing, I guess. Why?" Al asks uncertainly.

"I was wondering if you wanted … well, to spend the day here," I suggest a bit hesitantly now.

"I … Sure, okay," he agrees, and I smile to myself. "You're sure your dad won't mind?"

I laugh at that. "No, he won't mind. He thinks you're the greatest thing since broomsticks," I answer, and I can almost see his grin on the other end.

"I dunno about _that_," he says, chuckling slightly. "But I'd love to spend Christmas with your family if you want me to."

"I do, but you should know … after lunch we usually head over to my grandparents'. You'd be perfectly welcome there, but… there's a lot of kids running around, and it's kind of noisy," I tell him, worried now that he might not want to come.

"I'd like to see your idea of noisy," he says, laughing again. "My dad has six brothers and two sisters, and every single one of them has at least three kids, and my mom has three brothers and a sister and all of them have at least two. To make matters worse, there are only four or five besides me who are over the age of thirteen. _My_ Christmases are _noisy_."

"Oh, I bet we'll give you a run for your money," I answer. "My dad has five brothers and a sister. One of his brothers owns Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and all four of_ his_ kids are _obsessed_ with pulling pranks; they're favorites are toys that erupt into fireworks if you step on them. My uncle Charlie has only one son, but he's worse than all four of George's kids combined. I don't know how he manages to get into so much trouble, but he does.

"And then there's Harry's sons Andrew and James, who can tell a story so convincing they'll have you believing the Crumple-Horn Snorkacks have made a comeback and that they can _fly_ now. They have their little brother Tristan in training. Oh, and Percy's girls are such know-it-all snot-noses that they make you want to curse them into the next decade. Bill and Fleur's kids think they're all high and mighty because they go to _Beaxbatons_, and are constantly speaking French to each other just to annoy the rest of us. It's _horrible_," I insist, shuddering just at the thought of what Christmas will hold this year. Al laughs in my ear.

"It all sounds pretty familiar," he says nonchalantly, and I can practically see him shrugging his shoulders at me. "But what's a Crumple-Horn Snorkack?"

"You _don't_ want to know," I insist, remembering the year Harry invited his old friend Luna to Christmas. She was a strange woman, and James and Andrew latched onto her and her stories like leeches, following her around, begging her to tell them more. They don't believe the tales any more than I do (which is to say not at all), but anyone who didn't know better would think it to be fact the way those two go about telling things.

"Now you've just got me curious," Al jokes, and I smile.

"Crumple-Horn Snorkacks don't exist," I explain. "But don't tell that to Luna Lovegood."

"I have a feeling there's a story behind this."

"There is, but I'm too tired to tell it now," I reply, yawning and effectively making my point.

"I should let you get back to bed then," Al murmurs. I make a noise of agreement and he chuckles softly. "Good-night, Aria."

"Good morning, more like," I correct, and he laughs again.

"Either way. Sleep well, lo-" he breaks off instantly, and any thoughts of sleep slip away. An awkward silence ensues, neither of us knowing how to break it. Did he seriously almost call me _love?_

"Good-night, Al," I whisper after an entire minute of silence. He breathes a sigh of relief.

"Goodnight." Then, right as I'm about to hang up, "Wait." I do. He hesitates, then continues in a rush. "Can we have lunch together tomorrow? I … I want to see you."

"Sure. My lunch break's at twelve thirty tomorrow. It's alright that Drew and Kay will be there, right?" I ask, just to make sure. I can't imagine why he'd want to have lunch with me _alone_ (well, I _can_, but he knows I'm not really interested in him like that).

He pauses again before answering, which makes me think that maybe he'd been hoping I would leave my friends behind. I'm about to offer to do just that when he answers. "Yeah, sure. Drew and Kay are perfectly welcome to eat with us."

"Okay, see you tomorrow then."

"Later today actually," he answers cheekily. I smile again.

"Later today," I echo. "See you."

"Bye," he says rather wistfully. I end the call and put the phone back on the nightstand. I fall asleep thinking of Al and the feelings for me that may or may not exist, all thoughts of Jake having completely flown from my mind.

x.x

Al

At a quarter after twelve I walk into the diner across the street from St. Mungo's. The place is busy, as I could only assume it always is around lunch time. There are all sorts of witches and wizards sitting around, chatting, eating, reading papers. I settle into a booth by a window to wait.

I don't have to wait long. Ten minutes early, I spot Aria and her friends Drew and Kay leaving St. Mungo's, laughing about something. My stomach clenches when she smiles up at Drew, shoving his arm gently and laughing. He grins back down at her, then glances at Kay, who's laughing as well. For a moment I wish I was with them, if only to hear Aria's laugh as well.

As soon as she's through the door, Aria's eyes sweep the room. She spots me and waves, and the smile that lights up her face makes a chord in my chest tighten strangely. I smile back as she slides in beside me and gives me a quick hug. I hug her back, and she doesn't stiffen, doesn't shift nervously, doesn't even wince. She's gotten so much better about people touching her.

Kay and Drew slide in across from us, both of them casting me smiles. I nod back at them. "You all had to work today?" I ask, finding it hard to believe they'd _all_ have to work on Christmas Ever. They both grimace at me.

"One of the interns volunteered me," Drew says, obviously disgruntled. Kay shoots him a look.

"At least Healer J didn't approach you personally and beg you to work," she snaps, and I have to laugh at that. Aria just smiles and shakes her head at her friends.

"It's not so bad," she admonishes. "There's hardly anyone around. We basically sit around talking the whole time anyway."

"I guess," Kay mutters, not wanting to give up her sulkiness so quickly. Drew rolls his eyes and grins over at me.

"So what are you up to today?" he asks, and Aria's eyes suddenly glance up at me curiously. Her expectant gaze throws me off guard for a second; from her expression it feels like this is more than just a passing question.

"Nothing," I answer truthfully. "My mom's side of the family is getting together later this afternoon, so until then I have absolutely nothing to do."

"Sounds exciting," Kay says sarcastically, and I grin at her.

"Very," I assure her, and she smiles back.

We finally get around to actually ordering our food. The others all get what I can only assume would be their regular meals, and a slightly uncomfortable silence falls over our little group while we wait.

"So what are you guys up to tomorrow?" I ask, just for something else to talk about. Drew shrugs.

"Family stuff, you know. Spending the day with my parents and my holier-than-thou big brother and his crazy sons," he says, but the fondness in his tone betrays his annoyed expression.

"Same," Kay says, nodding in agreement. "Parents, my brother and sister, nieces, nephews…" she trails off, looking torn between annoyance and affection. "What about you, Al?" she asks, looking at me with raised eyebrows. I shrug and glance at Aria.

She smiles at me and my stomach flips over. "I've invited Al to spend the day with me," she says nonchalantly as though this is a common occurrence. I don't miss the look that passes between Drew and Kay though. Aria seems oblivious however as our food arrives.

Drew is staring at me. Feeling immensely uncomfortable under his gaze, I give him a slightly annoyed look. I've only met both Kay and Drew a couple of times – once when I came to lunch with them before and a couple of times one or the other has been at dinner at the Weasleys' – and I really do like them; they're nice people, and they truly care about Aria. But that doesn't mean that I'm not going to let Drew know he's getting on my nerves.

"I'll be right back," Kay excuses herself politely. She stands, glances at Aria, hesitates, then shrugs and walks away. Two seconds later Aria is out of her seat following. Drew chuckles slightly at this.

"Can't even go to the loo alone," he murmurs, shaking his head. I deign a smile for the truth in that. Then his face becomes serious again. He glances around before leaning forward.

"She invited you to _Christmas?_" he whispers loudly, and I sigh inwardly.

"It's not a big deal, Drew. We're just friends," I insist, despite how much I might wish otherwise. She's still not ready; I respect that.

"Uh-huh, and I'm the Minister of Magic," he scoffs.

"Congratulations, Minister," I retort, and he allows a grin.

"Alright, alright, fine. You're just friends … _for now_. I'm not stupid, Al. If I can tell how you feel about her, you can bet Aria suspects too. She's not ..." he pauses, biting his lip uncertainly.

"She's not ready for a relationship," I finish. "I know that. You think I don't know that? Why do you think I haven't said anything to her?" I ask rather angrily, insulted that he thinks I'd take advantage of her or something like that.

I have to give him credit though; he keeps a level head. He stares at me calmly. "Sorry." Then he starts looking uncomfortable again. "I was just going to say that she's not …" he glances around again. "She's not all _there_ sometimes, you know what I mean? Like, sometimes she'll just stop what she's doing and sit there staring at _nothing_ and I know she's thinking about him, Al." He looks really worried.

"She's going to think about him, Drew," I assure him as best I can. "He hurt her _so_ much. It would be hard to just forget him. … She dreams about him," I tell him, feeling only slightly bad for betraying that secret. I figure Drew's a good friend; he'll keep his mouth shut. Besides, he's obviously so worried. He deserves to know the reality of everything.

"She does?" he asks, looking caught between more worry and curiosity now. I nod.

"Usually the dreams aren't bad ones – they're like memories or something; usually happy. But sometimes … sometimes they're not happy memories," I say carefully. He looks at me slightly suspiciously now.

"How do you know?" he asks.

"She … she tells me," I answer, not wanting to go into the thing with the cell phones and that day at the Quidditch pitch. "She tells me a lot of things," I add softly, looking away.

"I'm glad," he whispers, and I look back up in confusion. "She needed someone like you so much. I … I tried," he admits, looking embarrassed. "But I'm not good with girls, not when it comes to stuff like this. I _wanted_ to be there for her, but I just … couldn't," he sighs. I open my mouth to reply, but I'm cut off by Aria and Kay returning.

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Kay asks, her eyes bright and curious. She glances between us with raised eyebrows. I exchange a look with Drew.

"Nothing important," he lies, giving her an easy smile.

"Quidditch," I add, saying the first thing that pops to my head. Aria instantly takes to that topic and launches into a detailed account of the last Ireland game she attended. Drew gives me a relieved look, and I sit back to enjoy Aria's version of how I play Quidditch.

* * *

**A/N**: Alright, tell me what you think, then go read chapter 27!


	27. Christmas Dragons

**A/N**: Finally, CHRISTMAS! Yay for Christmas in May! Haha. Still, huge chapter. Not overly important to the plot really, but it's something we couldn't just _ignore_. Next chapter we'll probably skip to Jake's birthday, and then I think we'll have another transition chapter or two, and then _maybe_ we'll get to the birth of a certain important character you've all been waiting for...

Quick note. I am not following canon for Harry and Ginny's children, and Bill and Fleur do not have a daughter named Victoire. I'm following what I wrote way back for Family Ties one because otherwise I'd have to go back and rewrite all that stuffs. However, in the original I didn't have Fred dead (because obviously, DH hadn't come out yet) and Percy wasn't in it at all. However, I _did _go back and edit it so that Fred is now dead (sad I know) and Percy is in it now. That's all. Alright, on with the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Christmas Dragons**

Jake

On the morning of Christmas I awake to find blinding white light filtering into my window. Shielding my eyes, I sit up and do my best to look outside. I can only manage a quick glance, as the glare the sun is throwing off the snow is absolutely agonizing. The sky is blue for once, instead of gray and overcast. The sun is shining, but it still looks extremely cold outside. Shivering at just the thought of that, I set about getting dressed.

I pad downstairs, following my nose into the kitchen where Gran has a huge spread made up for breakfast. I sit down at the table eagerly and reach for the bacon, only to have my wrist slapped in admonishment.

"Ouch!" I yelp, pulling my hand back. I glare up at Gran reproachfully, and she simply smiles.

"Be polite and wait until our guests arrive," she instructs. I glance back at her in surprise.

"Danni and Ms. Kline are coming over?" I ask, and she nods.

"Yes, and you can wait until they get here."

So I pick up the _Daily Prophet_ lying on the table – which is actually slightly irresponsible of Gran, leaving a wizarding newspaper lying around when Ms. Kline (who doesn't know about the magical world) is coming over soon. I scan it quickly.

Nothing interesting there, what with Quidditch done until the spring again. I quickly scan the headlines, but find nothing out of the ordinary. Ads for products that probably don't work, stories about things that might not have happened – or at least not the way the _Prophet_ says, something about a new model of cauldrons coming out in the spring … nothing interesting.

The doorbell rings right then. Looking for something to do with the paper where it won't be seen, I pull out my wand. Not finding a good hiding place, I shrink the paper and stuff it in my pocket just as Gran yells at me to answer the door.

"Happy Christmas!" Danni exclaims when I open the door. She throws her arms around me enthusiastically and plants a kiss on my cheek. I laugh and hug her gently. The slight bump of her stomach presses against me as I do, and whether it's that or something else, when I pull back there's an uncomfortable expression on her face. I take a step back to give her space.

It takes me a moment or two to notice how absolutely gorgeous she looks. Her dark curly hair is pulled back from her face, and she's wearing a long, form-hugging pale blue sweater and jeans. With snowflakes in her hair she looks like some sort of winter fairy. I take her into my arms again on impulse and kiss her on the side of her head. I pull away at the sound of soft chuckling.

"Happy Christmas, Ms. Kline," I say to Danni's mum when I see her smiling at us in amusement. She simply holds out a small pile of gifts for me to take. I step back to let them inside and take the presents to the living room where the Christmas tree is set up.

In the front hall I hear Gran greeting Ms. Kline and exclaiming over Danni. "Dear, you look beautiful! That is such a lovely color for you."

"It certainly is," I agree, going back to the hall to join them. Danni whirls at my voice and smiles up at me. She gives me another hug, and I catch Ms. Kline exchange a smile with Gran.

"Why don't we eat?" Gran suggests. I plant my feet to keep myself from dashing to the kitchen like I would have if I were still at the Weasleys'. Then my stomach growls – loudly – and they all laugh.

"I guess we know what Jake thinks," Danni teases, slipping her hand into mine and leading me to the table. We all sit down, and Ms. Kline insists on giving thanks before letting us eat. Once she's done, I reach for whatever food is within reach and dump it onto my plate. Gran and Ms. Kline both laugh at my behavior, but I ignore them and dig in.

x.x

Aria

I'm sitting at the breakfast table with Henry when the front door flies open, revealing a familiar – if snow-covered – lanky Quidditch player. I throw down my fork and rush to his side.

"Sean!" Henry yells, dropping his fork as well. Sean laughs and wraps me in a quick one-armed hug before turning to take off his boots and coat. He shakes his head and melting snow flies all over us. Henry ducks as the cold drops shower him.

"Was that necessary?" I ask when he's hung up his coat. He grins and gives me a real hug this time.

"Sure it was," he insists, ruffling Henry's hair and grabbing him in a fond headlock before going over to the table and dropping into a seat. Henry moves his plate over to sit beside Sean, and I settle back into my chair.

"Where're Mum and Dad?" asks Sean, looking around curiously.

"Keira's in the shower. She just came down to make breakfast, which was awfully nice of her," I say thoughtfully, thinking I would have been more than capable of making breakfast for myself and Henry. "And Dad's probably still in bed."

"Or in the shower _with _her," Sean adds with a wicked grin, and I flick some eggs at him.

"Disgusting," I tell him, not wanting to think about it any longer. He grins at me before getting up and filling his plate with what's left at the stove. I notice he doesn't actually leave _anything_ left for Keira or Dad, but I don't comment on it.

"So what time's Al coming over?" Sean asks, his tone innocent enough, but the suggestive arch of his eyebrows tells me otherwise. I make a face at him.

"Around ten, and how did you know he's coming anyway?" I ask. I just invited him two days ago for Merlin's sake.

"I ran into him in Diagon Alley yesterday," he says, shrugging like it's no big deal. I let it go, despite the feeling that something's suspicious about that. Before I can say anything about it anyway, Henry launches into a detailed description of all the gifts he hopes he gets for Christmas. I grin and go back to my breakfast.

.x.

Al arrives promptly at ten o'clock, and both Keira and Dad spend a few minutes fussing over him, much to his obvious amusement. Finally shaking them off, he comes into living room where Sean, Henry, and I are sprawled over the furniture quite improperly. Keira casts us an exasperated look at our lack of poise, but we ignore her.

Al perches on the arm of the sofa I'm lying on, looking amused at us. Henry waves at him from the armchair he's lounging across the wrong way, and Al grins back.

"Well, this is certainly an exciting way to spend Christmas," he says sarcastically, sliding a fingernail up the bottom of my foot. I yank my feet away from his tickling fingers and he slips onto the sofa with a sly smile. I smile back and sit up, moving to his side. He gives me a pleasantly surprised look and wraps his arm around me loosely.

"Just wait – we leave for the Burrow at noon," Sean tells him, suddenly looking apprehensive. "And _then_ it will be … well, less boring anyway."

"Dad?" Henry asks, lifting his head, a slight whine crawling into his voice. Dad looks over at him expectantly.

"Yeah, Henry?"

"Are we opening presents now or at the Burrow?" he asks pleadingly. I roll my eyes. It makes no difference to me, but Henry's been bugging us all about this for days.

"At the Burrow, Henry, we've discussed this," Keira says patiently, and Henry dons a pout at this. Al shakes with a silent laugh, and I nudge him. He grins down at me and shakes his head.

"I can already tell this will be interesting," he whispers, hugging me. I grin back at him and give him a quick hug.

"Just wait. It'll get better," I assure him.

x.x

Ron

I watch Al and Aria all morning, trying to be discreet about it. It absolutely shocked me when she brought him over for dinner the first time. Both of them keep insisting they're nothing but friends – and I don't doubt it – but I can tell they both feel something more, though where or not Aria realizes it yet isn't something I can say.

He's so good with her. He gives her just the right amount of space so she's comfortable, yet he never seems to stray more than a few feet from her side. The slightest twitch of her expression or shift in her posture causes his eyes to snap to her face. He's like an older brother and best friend rolled into one. Essentially, he's _Jake_ in a Quidditch player's body. I don't know exactly what that says about my daughter, but it's a little strange. If I wasn't so relieved, I might be more concerned.

Around eleven thirty Keira starts getting an easy lunch together to hold us over until Mum's extravagant supper tonight at the Burrow. Henry, bored out of his mind without Abby around to keep him occupied, offers to help and disappears into the kitchen, leaving me with my two eldest children and Al.

"So, Al," Sean says, sitting up slightly and giving his Captain a conspiratorial grin. "What did you get me for Christmas?"

Al gives him a puzzled look. "Get you? I didn't get you anything. Why would I buy you a present?" His face is deadpan, but I can see the glint in his eye. Sean actually looks worried for a moment or so before Al grins, and he relaxes.

"You had me going there," Sean says with a grin. "For your information, you're going to _love_ your gift," he says, sniffing dramatically. Aria rolls her eyes at him and leans against Al. I notice his arm slip around her waist again as she settles against him. She doesn't so much as shift when he does it except to move her arm to make room for his underneath it.

"So, Dad," she says, grinning at me now. "What did _you_ get me? Some office supplies?" she teases. Keira's and my birthday present to her is still the source of many a joke around here. I smile at her.

"Well, we thought maybe a nice file cabinet would do," I tease back, and she makes a face at me.

"You're _so_ funny, Dad," she says sarcastically. Al grins and shrugs, casting me a glance.

"I dunno, Aria. I think a file cabinet would be a pretty useful gift. It'll go well with the office chair I got you," he jokes, and Aria elbows him. He winces when she hits his ribs, but doesn't say anything, only giving her a quick hug, which she doesn't seem to mind.

"Lunch!" Henry announces loudly from the doorway. "Come and get it!" I laugh as he disappears, and Aria grins over at me.

Sean gets up from his settee and makes a big show about stretching before ambling into the kitchen. Aria and Al both roll their eyes at him as he leaves and I can't help but smile at that.

x.x

Danni

After Mrs. Parks' extravagant breakfast, the four of us head into the living room. Mum and Mrs. Parks settle on the sofa, leaving little room for Jake and me, so the two of us sit on the floor near the Christmas tree. It makes me feel like a little kid again, waiting for permission to open gifts. Unbidden, the thought comes into my head; _Next time this year there _will_ be a little kid to open presents on Christmas_. The thought makes me feel strange, so I push it away.

Jake's hand brushes against my knee, and I look over at him to see him smiling gently at me. From his expression, I can almost imagine he was just thinking something similar to what I was. He leans close to me.

"You know what I was just thinking?" he whispers, glancing quickly at Mrs. Parks and Mum chatting on the sofa. I shrug.

"That this time next year we'll be parents?" I ask. His face screws up at that.

"Well, that's true, but no, that's not what I was going to say." He squeezes my knee and smiles again. "I was thinking about how absolutely beautiful you look today," he whispers, and despite the fact that he's said it before, I find myself blushing. He notices and laughs quietly to himself, but not unkindly.

"I love you," I murmur, lacing my fingers with his and wishing he could say it back. A pained look crosses his face, and he looks at me with an expression torn between apologetic and distraught.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, looking down. "I really am." Disappointment flashes through me like always, but I manage to smile.

"It's alright," I assure him. "It's enough to know that you would say it if you could." He simply nods silently, looking apologetic and sad. Only then do I notice Mum and Mrs. Parks watching us, and I feel my face heat up again. They look away politely when they see me watching, but I still spy the look they exchange.

"Hey," Jake says softly, squeezing my hand. I look over at him to see him holding out a pile of wrapped gifts to me. Surprised at the number of them, I take the boxes and set them down in front of me. Jake continues handing out gifts, collecting a small pile for himself as he goes.

"Ms. Kline," he says, holding out a gift bag to Mum. She looks pleasantly surprised as her own little pile grows. Jake picks up a big box I hadn't noticed before. Puzzled, he peers at the tag. His eyebrows shoot up.

"To Danni _and_ Jake," he murmurs, sliding it between us as he continues to read. "From Mum and Gran. This looks ominous," he mutters, and Mrs. Parks and Mum laugh. I don't though. I have a feeling I can guess what it might be – or at least what it _relates_ to.

"Should we start?" Mrs. Parks asks, and Jake shrugs, checking under the tree to see if there are any more stray gifts hiding under there. He comes back out and nods.

"That's the last of them," he says, gesturing at our joint gift.

"Why don't you start, Danni?" Mrs. Parks suggests, pointing at my own – rather larger than the rest – pile of gifts. I pick up the smallest one on top and read the tag.

"From Mum," I read aloud before tearing the paper off. Inside is a book. Half curious and half wary, I flip it over to read the cover. I can practically feel Jake's curiosity radiating off of him, so I read the title.

"'_So You're Gonna Be Parents',_" I say rather glumly, and I just barely hear the snort of amusement from Jake before he pretends to sneeze to cover it up. "Thanks, Mum," I say softly, setting it aside, refusing to look at her. I hope all of my presents aren't related to the baby. "Jake, you open one," I insist, not wanting to be the center of attention anymore. He obliges.

He chooses the biggest one first (though it's not nearly as big as that joint present of ours), which I know is from Mum, though she wouldn't tell me what it was, and it's been bugging me for weeks – she's had it since the end of November, whatever it is.

"From Ms. Kline?" he says, obviously surprised. He looks up at her and she smiles encouragingly. Shrugging, he starts ripping the paper off. I lean in, curious as ever. While he digs his fingernail into the tape on the box to break it, I ball up the wrapping paper and move it aside to see better.

He peers inside the box a little warily, and starts pulling things out one at a time, looking confused and apprehensive.

First is an old dented pocket watch on a broken chain. I can barely hear it ticking though, so I know it works. It looks faintly familiar, but before I can place it, he sets it aside, out of my sight.

Next is a pair of cuff links – I nearly laugh at the thought of Jake wearing them. He peers at them with a puzzled expression before shrugging and setting those aside too. I glance at Mum to see her watching Jake, her eyes glued to his face. Confused, I turn to watch again too.

The next item is a dusty old book of some sort. He pages through it briefly before putting it down and reaching into the box again. I refrain from asking what the heck it all means until he's done.

The fourth thing is a really pretty glass guardian angel figurine. _That's funny,_ I think to myself, watching Jake turn it over in his hands gently, _Daddy used to have an angel just like that._ Something in my memory stirs at that, but I can't catch it, and it slips away.

The last item – and I know it's the last because he sets the box aside now – is something that makes the breath catch in my throat. It's a tiny little statuette, one that I coveted deeply as a little girl. It's a perfect little red porcelain dragon wrapping itself around its white pedestal which blooms up into a cloud, its head and feet coming to rest on top, peering over at me. I stare at it in awe.

"Daddy," I whisper, unable to look away from it. Jake glances at me, then down at the dragon, and understanding dawns on his face.

"Ms. Kline," he says slowly, frowning and biting his lip, staring at that impossibly beautiful and perfect little dragon. "I'm not sure I can accept this…"

"That was Dad's," I tell her accusingly, wanting so badly to reach out and snatch it from his hands. "That wasn't yours to give away."

"And who do you suppose _should_ give it away, Danielle?" she asks gently, looking sad. "Your dad would have wanted Jake to have those things. He never had the chance to have a son to pass his things to."

"_I _would have taken them," I insist, near tears now. "You never asked _me_."

"Danni, here," Jake says, holding out the dragon. "Take it. It obviously means a lot to you."

Looking at him, seeing his willingness to give me what I want, I realize something, and I find myself ashamed for it. I kind _am_ acting like a spoiled child. I swallow my tears instantly.

Suddenly I remember something about Dad, and a memory rushes over me. When I was really little, he'd hoist me up to look at his figurines on top of the dresser. The dragon was my favorite – and the angel; now I remember. He had others – unicorns, tigers, monkeys; all sorts of exotic and mythical creatures. And whenever he let me look at them, he'd whisper in my ear and point out all the ones that would one day belong to me, he said: the unicorn, the white tiger, the wolves – there were four, I remember – the parrot, and all the others. But whenever I asked about the dragon or the angel, he'd shake his head and put me down.

"_Sorry, Danni," _he'd murmur, kissing my forehead._ "But a dragon is too dangerous for a little girl to take care of. Someday you'll have a baby brother, and then when he gets bigger, it'll be his. And he'll take good care of it."_ It had made me sad to think I'd never own that dragon, but I had figured at the time that maybe having a baby brother wouldn't be so bad, and that he'd probably deserve the dragon and love it just as much as I had.

As for the angel, _"My grandmother gave that to my dad when he was a little boy, and promised that it would always watch over him. And when you get bigger, you'll have _all_ of these to look after you, but your baby brother will have only that dragon and this angel to watch over him. So really, don't you get the better deal?"_

I hadn't thought so at the time, but I didn't argue. My dad knew everything – at least that's what I thought when I was little – so of course he was right about the dragons and the angels.

"No," I whisper, gently pushing Jake's hand away. "Mum's right. Dad would have wanted you to have it. He always wanted a son to give it to." Tears well up in my eyes at that thought. Mum and Dad really had wanted another baby. She'd miscarried twice in the years after I was born, and another was stillborn. The saddest part was that the stillborn baby _was _a boy. I remember her crying for _months_ after that, and Dad trying to be strong for her. In the end they'd just given up on having any more kids, and I resigned myself to life as an only child.

"Are you sure?" Jake asks, looking down at the dragon thoughtfully. "You can have it if you really want it. It was your dad's."

"I'm sure," I say with a smile. And then, leaning close so Mum won't hear, I whisper, "Does it look anything like a real dragon?"

He laughs softly. "I wouldn't know; I've never seen one. I could ask Ar- I mean, Sean's uncle Charlie though someday; he works with them in Romania." I say nothing about his abrupt switch from saying Aria to Sean, even though the sound her name makes me want to smash something. Instead I force a smile.

"It would be fun to work with dragons," I murmur, and he chuckles.

"Only if you enjoy being in mortal peril every day," he replies, carefully setting _his_ dragon aside. Its dark eyes seem to be watching me as I stare at it. Jake notices and his expression morphs into concern.

"Can I just … hold it?" I ask, half afraid he'll say no like Daddy always did. But he hands it to me without question and watches carefully while I hold it.

The porcelain is cool and smooth – just as perfect as I'd always imagined it feeling. It's lighter than I thought it would be, and I wrap my fingers around the white pedestal gently. The little red dragon peers up at me with a wicked grin on his snake-like face, and for just a moment I feel as though Dad's here with me, watching me hold his dragon. The feeling passes quickly though, and as it disappears I hand the figurine back to Jake. He takes it and sets it down among the other things, which I now recognize as all belonging to Dad.

"Shall we continue?" Mrs. Parks asks softly, and I nod, tearing my eyes away from the dragon.

"Mum, you should open one," I say, and I note with a pang of guilt how little her pile of gifts is compared to mine or Jake's. She reaches for one of the bags and glances at the tag.

"From Jake," she says, looking pleasantly surprised. He smiles slightly at her and she all but grins back.

"Open it," I say, getting a little tired of all the smile-exchanging going on. She casts me a fond eye roll before starting to take the tissue paper out. Finally, after gobs and mounds of tissue paper – Jake must have put an _entire_ package in there or something – she pulls out a snow globe. The base is silver, and from the angle Mum is holding it, I can see the little crank on the bottom that will play the music.

"What's it look like?" I ask curiously, and Mum turns it around. Inside is an angel – which is only slightly ironic, seeing as Mum gave _Jake_ an angel, even if it was Dad's – surrounded by falling glitter. She winds the little handle and a somewhat familiar melody starts to play, though I can't place it.

"It's beautiful," Mrs. Parks comments, smiling approvingly at Jake. He smiles back, and Mum nods in agreement.

"It is; thank you, Jake," she says softly.

"You're welcome," he replies with another smile. Then he turns to Mrs. Parks. "Gran, it's your turn."

"Oh, alright then." She opens her gift from Jake first, revealing an ornately carved wooden picture frame. Jake sends her a somewhat sheepish grin.

"I figured you needed some pictures around," he says, and for just a moment a flash of hurt crosses her face before she smiles and laughs, though the sound is somewhat forced and fake. Jake notices and frowns, but says nothing.

"Your turn again, Danni," Mum says, and I sigh. They all laugh at me, and I make a face at them. I pick up the next box – another one from mum.

The box isn't very large – about the size of a shoebox – but it's _heavy_. Curious, I set it in front of me and start ripping paper. It _is_ a shoebox. I take the lid off in slight confusion – shoes do _not_ weight that much – and gasp when I see what's inside.

"_Mum,_" I whisper, my eyes filling with tears again of their own accord. I start pulling out one by one little porcelain and glass figures. A white tiger, a brown monkey, a blue and green and red parrot, four wolves: black, white, grey, and brown; a pure white unicorn with a silvery horn, a little black ferret, a lion, an antelope, a tall yellow and brown giraffe. I'd forgotten how many there were. There's an elephant and an eagle and a dolphin. As the figurines spread out around me, I feel the tears running down my cheeks.

"Thank you," I manage, looking up at her. She smiles gently.

"I would have given them to you sooner, but I didn't want anything to happen to them," she murmurs, and I know she means Craig. I give her a watery smile and turn to see there is still one last figure in there buried under tissue paper. I pull it out carefully.

"What's this?" I ask, pulling out a … _dragon?_ Only there are two, a blue one and a green one, entwining around each other on a cloud pedestal matching that of the red dragon Jake has. Confused, I look at Mum. She looks guilty.

"You dad was going to give that to you for Christmas the year he died," she whispers, looking down. "But I could barely even look at it for years, and then I married Craig… it's been sitting in the back of the closet; I'd nearly forgotten about it."

I look at it all over, from every angle. On the bottom I notice writing, and I turn it over to read it.

_Dearest Danni,_

_You've always wanted a dragon of your own, so I got you something even better: I got you two. These dragons will watch over you forever, my sweet Danni, even after I'm gone. Never forget me, love. I'll always be watching over you too. –Daddy_

I set the dragons down before I drop them from shaking so hard. I realize I'm sobbing – quietly – and a few seconds later I feel Jake's arms envelope me. I lean against him and cry until no more tears will come. When I'm all cried out, I take a deep breath and start packing the little figures back into their box, carefully rewrapping each on in paper and setting it gently into the box. Jake's arm stays around my waist the entire time, and I feel safe for it. When I've finished with the animals, I lean against him again, and he gives me a hug.

"Now we have matching dragons," I say with a slight laugh, squeezing his knee. He hugs me again in reply, but I can tell he's smiling.

x.x

Aria

After lunch, Dad pulls out a big cloth bag that he bought one year after an incident involving a huge pile of gifts catching fire from traveling by Floo Network (we don't speak of that Christmas much) and piles all the presents into it. Henry watches hungrily as he carefully fills the bag with all sorts of odd-shaped packages for my numerous cousins. Al watches curiously as well, almost entranced with the number of gifts.

"There are going to be a _lot_ of kids there, aren't there?" he asks somewhat worriedly as the twentieth gift goes into the bag – and Dad's not even half done. I grin at him.

"I told you so. It's too late to back out now," I tease, and he just rolls his eyes back with a smile.

"I guess I'll suffer through," he replies with a laugh. I smile and lean against him, and his arm automatically wraps around me. It surprises me that it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I rest my head against his shoulder and watch Henry slowly inching closer to Dad and the ever-filling bag.

"So what did you get me?" I ask, and Al laughs softly.

"I _told_ you already," he says, his tone teasing. "An office chair. Just what you need for that big office you _don't_ have," he jokes. I nudge him gently with my arm.

"That was only funny the first four times," I complain, and he laughs again.

"Well then you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

And no matter what I say, he refuses to tell me. I give up after ten more minutes of badgering and just settle against him in a comfortable silence while Dad sets up wards around the bag of presents to guard it while he goes and gets cleaned up for the Burrow.

Henry tries everything to get around the magical protection. At one point he tries launching himself off the back of an armchair and landing _on top_ of the bag, and for an entire minute he hung in the air by his ankle until Al took mercy on him and let him down – I would have done it myself, but I was laughing to hard to work a wand.

After a few more minutes, Al stretches and stands up, wandering over to the mantel to look at the pictures framed there. I follow just for something to do. It's been forever since I actually looked at the photos anyway.

There are many more pictures now than there were when I was twelve, I reflect, looking at them. Back then, there were only five or six. Now the mantel is crowded and the frames are overlapping each other in several places.

"This one is cute," Al comments, pointing to a picture of Sean and me in the front yard. I'm sitting on the swing in the tree and he's behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder. That was the summer before third year.

I smile sadly at a picture of Sean, Jake, and me from Christmas one year. Jake and I had decided Sean would be much more attractive wrapped from head to toe in wrapping paper and had proceeded to do so. In the photo, Jake and I are sitting on either side of a very poorly-wrapped Sean, who has a giant red bow sitting crookedly atop his head. Al grins when he sees it.

"I'm sure Sean appreciated that," he says, and I smile up at him.

"Well, I thought he looked much more handsome with that bow on his head," I say with a grin. Al laughs.

"I think so too," he agrees. "We should do it again and see if the rest of the team agrees – maybe we'll make a new mascot out of it," he jokes. I shake my head at his teasing and turn my eyes to other pictures.

"This one's my favorite," I whisper, running a finger down the edge of the frame. It's another Christmas picture. Jake, Sean, and I are sitting in a big window seat at Harry's with the Christmas tree off to one side and snow swirling around outside the glass behind us. I'm in the middle – that's where I was usually stuck in photos of the three of us, being the only girl – and both of the boys have an arm around me. I sigh sadly at it.

"I like this one," Al comments, directing my attention to a picture of me sitting under the tree in the front yard alone, reading. I shrug.

"There's nothing special about it," I argue, but he shakes his head.

"That's why it's so perfect. There's no posing or fake smiles. It's just you, being you," he explains, and when he puts it that way I can sort of see what he means. I nod.

"I guess so," I agree with another shrug. He smiles at me.

"Trust me; it's perfect," he insists.

Just then Dad reappears and casts us a big smile. "Ready for this, Al?" he asks, coming forward and picking up our little jar of Floo Powder that we keep by the fireplace. Al shrugs.

"I guess so."

Keira comes in and hands us each a tray of desserts to hang on to before letting us go. I grab a handful of Floo Powder and throw it into the grate.

"The Burrow!" I yell, and then I'm off.

I very nearly land on top of some short red-haired kid when I come shooting out of the fireplace at the Burrow. When he darts away I recognize Josh, Charlie's one and only child. With a wicked look on his face he flits around the living room, poking and pinching or pulling hair to each of his cousins in a way of greeting. A few seconds later he's back at my side, grinning up at me angelically. For whatever reason, I've always been Josh's favorite cousin – he's never once pinched me or pulled my hair. I think it's because he became rather fond of Mum the one year she got to spend Christmas here.

"Heya, Aria," he says with a smile, showing off a mouthful of chocolate-covered teeth. _Someone's_ already been at the desserts today.

"Hi," Josh, I say, stepping out of the way as Al comes spinning out of the grate. "You know, you really shouldn't be so mean to your other cousins," I explain to him, taking him by the shoulder and steering him into the kitchen where Weasley women are bustling around baking and cooking and washing and cleaning. I sidestep Fleur as she rushes past with a wet towel to wipe down the table. I don't have time to tell her it's a fruitless effort before she's past me.

"Aria!" Grandma Weasley – sometimes known as Molly – calls, spotting me. She comes toward me and takes the dessert tray from my hands, passing it to Charlie's wife Jessica before enveloping me in a big hug. I hug her back, and when she pulls away, she scrutinizes me just like always.

"You are _so_ tiny," she mutters, and I grin at her. "You don't eat enough," she adds, wagging a spoon at me. I say nothing, knowing it would be pointless to argue. Besides, she kind of has a point – I _am _really short. And kind of skinny.

"And how are you, young man?" she asks, suddenly noticing Josh standing there, looking bored and starting to fidget. He shrugs.

"Fine. I'm mad at Abby though," he informs us, which is news to me.

"How come?" I ask, suddenly curious. He scowls.

"She would rather stay at Hogwarts with her _boyfriend_ than come home for Christmas," he grumbles, and Molly and I exchange surprised looks.

"Abby has a boyfriend?" I ask. "Do tell."

Josh looks uncertain for a moment, as though suddenly questioning the morality of sharing his cousin's secrets, but it passes quickly, and he smiles at me somewhat dangerously.

"His name is _Michael_," he says wrinkling his nose, "and they're in _love_," he adds, pretending to gag. I open my mouth to tell him that they're probably _not_ in love – they're only twelve – but a hand on my elbow makes me turn.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" Al asks, looking utterly lost. Molly looks at him before glancing at me with raised eyebrows. I smile at her.

"Here," I say, taking the desserts from Al and handing them off to one of Percy's daughters. "Take these to the counter," I order her, and she glares at me before obeying.

"This is my friend Al Jargan," I introduce him, putting a certain emphasis on 'friend'. "He's also Sean's Captain," I add for good measure. "Al, this is my grandmother, Molly."

I've always called her Molly. It never felt right to call her Grandma or Gran, because I grew up with Mum's parents as Granddad and Grandma. She never seems to mind that I call her by her first name though. I think she understands.

"Nice to meet you, Al," says Molly, smiling at him. He smiles back.

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," he says politely, but she slaps him lightly with the towel in her hand – do they _all_ have towels or something?

"None of this Mrs. Weasley stuff, you hear me? I'm too old for that sort of stuff. It's Molly to you," she says sternly, and a slow grin spreads across Al's face at that.

"Whatever you say," he agrees, and Molly nods approvingly.

She pulls on my elbow and whispers in my ear. "He's a keeper." Despite myself I feel my face heat up.

"It's not like that," I mutter back, not able to look her in the eye. "Al and I are just _friends._" She gives me a skeptical look.

"Okay," she says, not sounding like she believes it one bit. She casts a knowing eye over at Al. "Sure. Just friends."

Al's eyes go instantly to my face, but I avoid his gaze, hating the stupid Weasley blush almost as much as I used to hate the freckles across my nose.

"Hey, what did I miss?" Sean asks, coming up behind us. Molly beams at him.

"How _are_ you, dear?" she asks as he hugs her. "You just keep _growing!_ What is it with you boys?" Sean pulls back with a grin on his face.

"What can I say, Grandma? Your little Sean is growing up." I snort at that, and his hand snakes out and slaps me instantly. I elbow him back, but before he can retaliate Al steps between us.

"I think I can see where this is going," he says, wedging himself in the middle and slinging a friendly arm around each of us. Molly sends him a smile.

"You'd think they were siblings or something," she jokes, and Sean sticks his tongue out at her.

"Real mature," I mutter, and he does it again. Al chuckles at us.

"You know, I'm almost _glad_ you're not on the team, Aria. You and Sean would spend the entire time bickering and we'd never win a match," he says, and I elbow him sharply in the ribs. He actually winces.

"You have _sharp_ elbows," he complains, letting his arms drop from around Sean and me. I smirk.

"Well, I have to get back to work," Molly says, smiling at our exchange. "But it was nice to meet you, Al." With another look and a wink to me, she turns and rejoins the other women bustling about the kitchen, only to be intercepted by Henry, Keira, and Dad.

"Let's go into the living room," I suggest, lacing my arms through one of each of the boys' and leading them out of the crowded kitchen and into the even more crowded sitting area.

"Wow," Al says, stopping suddenly as a wave of noise assaults our ears. It looks as though the entire population of a small village has crammed into the living room of the Burrow. Lily Potter and her older sister Chanel are entertaining George's youngest daughter, Claire, who turned six in September in one corner, playing some little game with her.

Percy's oldest daughter is talking to Bill and Fleur's daughter, wearing matching looks of contempt for the rest of the world. Both of them are the same age (about a year younger than me) and despite the fact that Kendra goes to Hogwarts – and will tell anyone who stand still long enough that she's the _best_ Head Girl _ever, ever_ and the first one in the family as well (because Ginny told me once that there was no way in hell that she would have ever been Head Girl and she was the only girl, and _I_ certainly wasn't HG material) and how one day she'll be the greatest witch in Magical Law Enforcement _ever_ – and Liana goes to Beauxbatons, they're best friends.

Harry's two oldest sons, James and Andrew are in the corner whispering to their younger brother Tristan, and all three of them have secretive looks on their faces. Percy's younger daughter Mandy is sprawled across one of the sofas, allowing only Liana's younger brother Bret anywhere near her, and even then he only has barely enough room by her feet to sit perfectly still. He looks bored, poor kid. George's other three kids are spread throughout the room, each of them surrounded by at least four friends. I spot a couple of Lily and Josh's friends spread throughout as well, and just as Al, Sean, and I get through the doorway, Mandy's best friend from Hogwarts coming out of the bathroom.

"You weren't kidding," Al mutters, only I can barely hear him over the noise. I smile at him. Sean ambles over to the largest sofa in the room and stands there until Caleb – George's oldest son – looks up at him expectantly. Sean stands there a minute or so more before the kid makes a face and gets up, dragging all his friends with him. Sean stretches out on the sofa and sends us a triumphant grin. We go to join him. It's _good_ to be the oldest.

x.x

Ron

I find George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill upstairs in what used to be Fred and George's bedroom, but has since been turned into a sitting room. They all shout greetings at me as I enter, and I smile at them.

"Hey, how's my favorite little brother?" George asks, and I roll my eyes at his favorite joke about me. I don't even deign to reply with the usual _'I'm your _only_ little brother.'_

I settle into an empty armchair. "I'm alright I guess. Aria's been … better lately," I say carefully. I know she hates it when I talk about her, but they all know about it through Ginny or Mum anyway. Bill sends me a questioning look.

"Have you heard from Jake?"

I frown, trying not to show how much it bothers me that he's completely alienated himself from me, not so much as sending a letter to let me know he's alright.

"No offense, mate, but you have one messed up family," George says lightly, and I scowl at him.

"I'm going to refrain from pointing out to you the hypocrisy of that statement," I snarl, and the smile slips off his face. Percy mutters something about 'deserving it' and George throws a shoe at him. Where he got the shoe I'm not sure, considering both of his are still on his feet, but it barely skims Percy's head and lands with a loud thunk on the floor behind him.

"Was that necessary?" he asks stiffly, and George shrugs.

"You deserved it," he mimics.

"Alright, this is getting old," Bill intervenes before Percy can retaliate. "Ron, how's Sean doing? Ireland's been doing really well this year. I haven't gotten to any of their games, but I read that they absolutely crushed France last month. Fleur was none to happy about that," he says with a smile. I smile back gratefully.

"Sean's been doing really well. Aria would like it if he were around more I know, but he's had a bit more free time with Quidditch out until spring. Aria works a lot, but she likes it there. I think she does a lot of it just to keep her mind elsewhere, but she enjoys it so I guess we can't complain much.

"Abby refused to come home for Christmas because she claimed _all_ of her friends were staying at school and she absolutely had to also. Poor Henry's been so bored without her around. Sean and Aria are always off together and he's left out of the loop poor kid," I say, wishing Henry were just a year older so he could at least go to Hogwarts and make friends. At home he has nothing to do – all of his cousins he actually enjoys being around are in school.

"You know what I just realized?" Charlie says, looking around curiously. We all look at him expectantly. "I haven't seen Harry or Ginny all day, but all five of their kids are downstairs."

"You're right," I say, confused. "Where'd they disappear to?"

George gets a wicked grin on his face and I throw a pillow at him, already knowing what he's thinking. "I doubt it," I say seriously. "Unless they stayed home, because there are way too many kids in the house."

"Maybe they did," George suggests. I roll my eyes.

"Alright, different topic," Percy says, and Bill and Charlie grin at each other.

"Yes, let's not discuss such vulgar things in range of Percy's delicate ears," Charlie jokes, earning himself a scowl. Bill chuckles but says nothing.

"How are the girls?" I ask Percy, and the other three all groan loudly. Percy could talk about his daughters for hours, and I know I just opened myself a can of worms by bringing up the topic.

"Well, Liana's Head Girl this year you know; first one in the family," he starts, and George rolls his eyes. Percy opens his mouth to say something else – probably to inform us _again_ of Liana's twelve O.W.L.s – but just then the door opens.

"Oh … hey Dad," Aria says, seeing me. Her face flushes when she sees her uncles. "Hey guys," she adds, waving at them awkwardly. George casts me an amused look. I peer behind her to see Al and Sean standing there waiting. Sean waves at us before grabbing Al and disappearing up the stairs. Aria smiles apologetically, closes the door, and follows them.

"I feel insulted," Bill jokes. "She didn't even introduce us to her new friend."

I laugh. "That was Al. He's Sean's Captain."

"Al _Jargan?_" George asks, jumping up. "And you just let him _walk away?_"

"Oh sit back down; he'll be here all day," I mutter, and he reluctantly lowers himself back into his chair.

"So … what's going on with Aria and Al?" Charlie asks curiously, and the others turn to look at me. I sigh.

"I don't even know. I mean, they're _friends_, but … I think it could be more if Aria would just let go of whatever she felt for Jake. I dunno. He's a good kid," I say with a shrug.

"And a bloody amazing Quidditch player," George adds. Percy nods in agreement.

"He is very good," he says curtly, and I look at him in surprise. He and George barely _ever_ agree. He rolls his eyes at me and Charlie gasps.

"Did Percy just _roll his eyes?_" he asks. "Oh, I'm so proud."

"Haha, very funny," Percy says, and Charlie's eyes widen even more.

"He just used _sarcasm!"_

"Shut up." But he's laughing, so I know it's all good.

x.x

Sean

Aria leans against Al and closes her eyes, a small smile on her face. Al's arms wrap around her and he hugs her gently. I watch them, wondering why it doesn't bother me more. But I trust Al, and he knows she's not quite ready for anything more than friendship right now.

"Sean, when are we gonna open presents?"

I look down to see Tristan Potter standing there, a little frown on his face. I shrug at him. "Go ask Grandma." He wanders into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with Mum in tow. She smiles at me across the room before disappearing upstairs – probably to retrieve Dad and everyone.

"Looks like we're going to open gifts soon," I say to Aria, and her eyes open. She looks over at the Christmas tree, which is completely surrounded by wrapped packages, forming a solid wall about a meter high all the way around it, then back at me.

"Oh boy," she says with sarcastic enthusiasm. "This should be fun." Al looks worried at her tone.

"This is going to be bad, isn't it?" he asks softly, and she laughs.

"Unfortunately. They're all monsters," she says, and his worried look only deepens.

A few minutes later Mum returns with Dad, George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill. All of the little kids scream and run to their respective fathers, except for the Potter kids.

"Hey, where's Harry?" I ask, looking around. Just as I say it the fireplace flashes green and a familiar Hogwarts professor comes spinning out of the flames. Tristan runs over and throws his arms around his dad's waist, but the others just ignore him, having seen him only a few days ago at school. Lily and Chanel wave though, which is more than can be said for James and Andrew, who don't move from their corner. Those two spend so much time whispering together it's almost a shock when you actually hear their voices.

"Right there," Aria answers, lifting her hand to point. I roll my eyes at her.

"Real funny," I say to her. She just smiles and shakes her head.

"Who wants to open _presents_?!" Mum calls, and all of the little kids scream in excitement. Aria and Al wince identically, and I grin at that. All of the older kids start handing out presents and before anyone can stop them, they start ripping into them. Lily and Chanel bring both Aria and me huge piles of gifts and set them at our feet. Mum brings over Al's presents – there are only four; one from Mum and Dad, one from me, one from Aria, and one from Harry.

I get two books on Quidditch history from Charlie and Percy, an enormous box of chocolate frogs from Bill, a box of baked snacks from Grandma, and _another_ box of Weasley Wizard Wheezes supplies from George – of course.

"What's this?" I ask Aria, holding up the present from her. She gives me a mischievous smile but says nothing, continuing to flip through the book Percy got her on common household healing spells. I peel back the wrapping paper from the long, thin gift, revealing a flat box. I open one end curiously. When I pull out a picture frame, I flip it over carefully. I smile. It's a photo of Aria and me from a few weeks ago. We were lying outside on one of the last nice days of autumn and Aria had her head resting on my stomach, lying perpendicular to me, reading a book.

"This is nice," I tell her, and she grins.

"I couldn't think of anything else you'd need. You already have the best broomstick available to professional Quidditch and enough service kits to open your own store by now I'm sure. And I know how you love books," she teases. I make a face at her.

"For your information, I _like_ to read. I just don't have _time_," I tell her.

"Uh-huh, sure," she says with a grin. I ignore her and set the frame aside. From Mum and Dad I get a sack of money and a note.

_Sean:_

_We couldn't think of anything you need that you didn't already have, so maybe this can go toward rent or food; you know, something __useful__. Love you._

_-Mum and Dad_

I grin and tuck that away safe before picking up Al's "gift" which is really just an envelope wrapped in gift paper. I open it curiously and pull out a packet of papers.

**Ireland Quidditch Team Uniform Change  
****To Take Effect Spring Season 2017**

I look up at Al in surprise. "You're kidding," I laugh, brandishing the papers at him. "Lecksi finally got to you?"

"Not to me," Al replies with a grimace. "To Dave." Dave is our manager. I gape at him.

"She took it to _Dave?_" I ask. "That's hilarious!" Al shrugs.

"I guess it doesn't really make a big difference to me. Like I've said a thousand times: it doesn't matter what you're _wearing_. The fans care about how you _play_." I nod in agreement. Still, I can't help but find it funny that Lecksi finally convinced _someone_ to listen to her about the uniform change.

x.x

Aria

My presents this year are different than usual. Well, I still get a book from Percy and a box of pranks from George's store, just like always. However, instead of a book or something from Charlie this year, I get something entirely different.

Inside the little box, nestled among fistfuls of tissue paper. Gently, I pull out a tiny little dragon. When it hisses and snaps at my finger I reel back in surprise.

"What is this?" I ask, half horrified half awed at the little figurine. Charlie comes up and kneels at my side.

"Cool, isn't it? It's a Norwegian Ridgeback – you should ask Harry about those sometime; he'd have a good story to tell you. Don't worry, it's not _real_. It won't grow into a great big fire-breathing dragon or anything. The charm will eventually wear off, but until then I suggest you find a nice little cage for it," he says with a grin. I stare at him.

"You gave me a miniature dragon for a pet," I say in disbelief, and he laughs.

"It's not _real_. You don't have to feed it or anything. I would just suggest not giving it free reign of your room when you're not around. It'll make a nice mess of any neat papers you've got stacked up," says Charlie, and I shake my head at him.

"Thanks," I say sarcastically. He just laughs and walks away to makes sure Josh isn't burning the Christmas tree down or anything.

From Bill and Fleur I get the usual fashionable, expensive clothing from some boutique I've never heard of in Paris. I think Fleur finds great pleasure in taking a trip to Paris every year to buy Christmas presents for all of her nieces. I've noticed over the years that the boys never get such nice gifts; I've had sneaking suspicions that Bill usually gets the job of picking those presents.

Molly and Arthur got me clothes as well, which means they couldn't think of anything else to get. I don't mind though.

I open Dad and Keira's present rather warily, only to be pleasantly surprised with a gift card to one of the best wizarding restaurants in London, _Bluebell Gardens_. I've never been there, but Kay and Drew both have and they insist it's the best food they've ever tasted anywhere. They also got me some novels, which doesn't surprise me in the least.

I save Al's present for last. It's a small jewelry box – that much I can tell by the size and shape. I open it carefully.

"Al!" I exclaim, seeing the pretty beaded bracelet. I pick it out of the box and slip it around my wrist. It's not expensive or anything, but I don't care about money. It's made with pretty clear blue, pink, and yellow beads. "I love it," I say, hugging him. He smiles and hugs me back.

"I'm glad. I wanted to get you something … better … but …" he trails off uncomfortably, and impulsively, I reach up and kiss his cheek.

"I love it," I repeat, and he looks at me strangely. I notice him swallow hard and he looks away again. An awkward pause fills the air and I pull away.

"I'm glad," he says at last - again - finally looking back at me. He gives me a genuine smile.

"So," I say, leaning in again and giving him a grin. "What do you think of my crazy family?"

He wraps his arms around me and draws me close, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "I love it," he murmurs, kissing my cheek. My heart pounds suddenly, and I wonder if he meant quite what I thought he meant.

Al pulls back slowly until we're facing each other, and for a moment he just stares at me. An intense look suddenly sparks in his eyes and he leans forward. Suddenly panicked and not sure what to do, I find myself frozen. He pauses mere centimeters away, looking me in the eye. I'm not sure what he reads there, but he starts forward again. _He's going to kiss me_.

I swallow, trying to decide if I want to pull away or not. He's so close our noses are nearly touching…

"_Ouch!"_ he shouts, pulling back and drawing every eye in the room. I scoot away quickly before anyone puts together pieces. Al shakes his hand hard and a small grayish blur goes flying off his finger and hits me in the chest. I look down as it drops into my lap. It's my dragon.

"Damn dragon," he mutters, glaring at it. I pick it up and cup it in my hand, suddenly overly protective of it.

"He doesn't know any better; leave him alone," I say, shielding the little toy even as I wonder why the hell I care. Ten minutes ago I wanted to be rid of the thing. But now, for a reason I'm not quite willing to admit to, I find myself extremely fond of my little Christmas dragon.

* * *

**A/N**: Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammatical errors that need fixing! I won't say too much because I'm exhausted, but I hope you enjoyed the chapters! Please review! And I apologize _again_ for the huge delay in updating. Sorry!


	28. Words of Encouragement

**A/N**: It's another super long one for you! Please review! Nothing really to say. This starts off still on Christmas day, then skips ahead. Read happily!

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**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Words of Encouragement**

Jake

I glance into the living room to see Danni still dozing on the couch in the same position she's been in since about four o'clock. She looks so peaceful. I stand there in the doorway, leaning against the wall, just watching her for awhile. She shifts slightly and mumbles something in her sleep, and a small smile graces her face for a few minutes.

"She really cares about you, you know," a voice whispers, and I turn to see Ms. Kline standing beside me. I smile at her uncertainly, and she nods in Danni's direction. She gives a little laugh. "You're all she talks about," she murmurs, looking amused and sad at the same time. I shuffle uncomfortably.

"She…" I bite my lip, not sure what to say, but Ms. Kline is watching me expectantly now, waiting for me to continue. I take a deep breath to calm myself and avoid her gaze. "Sometimes … I just feel awful for her," I sigh, glancing quickly to my right to see if she's still staring at me. She is, so I continue.

"I mean. _I_ did this to her," I say with mounting discomfort. "It's _my _fault, and now…" I trail off and look Ms. Kline square in the eye. I sigh again. "Now we're going to be parents and I'm … I'm absolutely terrified," I tell her softly. For just a moment I see something like resentment flit across her face, but it's gone instantly, and she just stares at me hard for a few seconds more before speaking.

"I wish I could make you feel better," she says at last, "but the truth of the matter is exactly what you said. You _are_ going to parents; you can't change it, Jake. I know it's scary, and I know you're both afraid that you won't be good parents, but you have to think positive. You'll only be good parents if you _try_ to be good parents. It's hard; I won't lie to you about it. It _is_ hard. But you have to believe that the good times will always outweigh the hard ones. As long as you can believe that, it'll be true," she says, and despite what she said to start with, she's calmed me enough for now. I nod at her.

"Thanks," I murmur, and she gives me the ghost of a smile before turning to go back into the kitchen.

"You're wrong about something else, by the way," she says, pausing in the doorway. I glance around at her questioningly. She gives me another sad little smile. "It can't possibly be entirely your fault, Jake. Don't be so hard on yourself." I nod and turn again as she disappears into the kitchen. Danni is still lying asleep.

I go into the living room and quietly go about picking up stray wrapping paper lying around the base of the Christmas tree. Pulling it all into one giant pile, I glance quickly toward the kitchen before pulling out my wand and vanishing everything. Then, with one more furtive glance around to make sure Ms. Kline isn't sneaking up on me or anything, I charm everyone's gifts into four respective piles. That done, I slip my wand into my pocket again, only to turn sharply at a soft intake of breath.

"You're awake," I say in surprise, seeing Danni staring at me with curious eyes from the sofa. She tilts her head and scrutinizes me

"You never do magic in front of me," she complains, and I glance at the neat piles of gifts rather nervously, then at the kitchen again.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to," I answer. "You are a Muggle."

"Coming from anyone else, that would sound like an insult," she jokes, and I give her a tense smile. She gives me another curious look. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't like the idea of your mum finding out I'm a wizard," I say quietly, and she looks confused.

"Why not? Maybe she'll think it's cool. I do," Danni says, and I give her a real smile this time.

"I know you do, but she might not. I mean… not all Muggles are as accepting of magic as you are. Not many could live around magic and not end up resenting it. And a lot of them are scared by it. It's just … not a good idea to tell her." I finish, and she nods.

"Will…" she paused uncertainly and casts me a shy smile. "Will our baby be a witch or wizard?" she asks softly, and I smile back at her.

"There's a fairly good chance," I assure her, and she smiles a real smile this time. "I mean, if you're worried about that sort of thing, just remember that my dad was a Muggle and my mum's a witch. There are lots of half-and-half wizards out there."

"Are you ever going to try to find your dad?" she asks softly, and my chest constricts slightly at that thought. We only touched briefly on my search for my father when I told her the entire story about Aria after that Quidditch game, and since then we haven't talked about him.

"Eventually," I manage, and I catch her concerned look full in the face. "I don't want to talk about it," I tell her, and she nods silently.

"Okay," she whispers. "But … if you ever do … want to talk about it I mean…" I smile slightly at her and she trails off.

"I'll know where to go," I assure her, and she gives me an uncertain smile in return. She sits up, making room for me on the sofa, and I settle down beside her. She leans against me automatically and I wrap my arms around her.

"Did you have a happy Christmas?" Danni asks softly, and I hug her gently.

"Of course I did." Yet even as I say it, I feel a twinge of sadness. My first Christmas in seven years apart from Aria – and the first Christmas I can _ever_ remember apart from the Weasleys, thanks to Mum's memory charm.

"It must have been really different from what you're used to, huh?" she asks, and I shrug.

"A little quieter maybe," I reply, going for a half truth. She cranes her head to look at my face, and I smile quickly at her.

"You don't have to lie," she murmurs, and I feel my smile slip away.

"You don't want me to tell the truth either," I remind her, and she winces.

"I want you to be happy," she argues, and for just a second I feel the stab of tears pressing against the back of my eyes before I blink them away.

"I'm happy," I say, which isn't _entirely_ untrue. She rolls her eyes at me.

"You miss them all, don't you?" she asks, and I give her a grim look.

"They're my family, Danni. They're all I've ever known – for as long as I can remember I've been a part of the Weasley family. So yes, I miss them. But you need me more than they do. They'll get by without me. But you…" I pause and look her in the eye, holding her gaze for a long moment. "You can't do this alone, Danni."

She smiles sadly, and I notice the resemblance she shows to her mum in that expression. "Only five more months," she murmurs, more to herself than anything. A flicker of fear goes through me when she says that, but I push it aside, just like always. I hug her.

"We'll get through," I promise, and she casts me a loving smile that never fails to remind of what I saw in her to begin with. She's so beautiful … inside and out. (Cliché, but true.) Sure, she has her bad days – who doesn't? But she's normally such a cheerful person to be around, and she always seems to have something up her sleeve to cheer me up whenever I'm down. I lean down and give her a gentle kiss.

"We'll get through just fine," she murmurs against my lips, smiling slightly. "Together."

.x.

The front door bangs open and a swirl of snow comes blowing in with a heavily-dressed visitor. I can only assume the person under all the layers of coats and scarves is Danni.

"Shut the door, will you?" I call to her cheerfully, only half joking. "You're letting a blizzard in here!"

She grumbles incoherently and slams the door against the gale outside. In the hall I can hear her unzipping, unsnapping, and unbuttoning layers quite vocally, swearing at the cold and the snow, stomping her feet in hopes of warming them up. I get up from the sofa and go to the doorway to watch her, trying my hardest to hide a smile of amusement.

"Oh shut up," she snaps when she sees my face. "I don't see you walking out there in the snow."

"I offered to," I remind her, and she holds up one mittened hand. I stare at it in amusement, certain I know what hand gesture she's trying to do, not realizing her dilemma. She realizes it quickly though and rolls her eyes.

"Shut up," she mutters again, and I grin as she starts unwinding a scarf from around her neck – one of many scarves, I notice.

"Happy New Year's Eve," I say with a smile, and she makes a face and tells me exactly where I can stuff my happy bloody new year. I laugh and help her out of her coat, her sulkiness unable to shake my good mood.

"Why are you so chipper?" she mutters, kicking off her snow-encrusted boots and setting them on the tile to thaw.

"I got a letter from Sean today," I answer, and she turns and stares at me.

"Sean _Weasley?_" she asks, and I nearly roll my eyes at her, but can't on account of how good I'm feeling.

"Do I know any other Seans?" I ask, and she shrugs.

"I dunno. For all I know, you have a hundred friends named Sean."

"In that case, _yes_, Sean Weasley," I assure her, and she nods.

"Anything interesting?" she asks, attempting an innocently curious tone and not quite managing it. I smile.

"Mostly stuff about Quidditch – the upcoming season and everything. There was some other stuff as well, I guess," I answer, purposely avoiding her gaze. I can feel her eyes on me, but I ignore that.

"Can I read it?" she asks, and I grimace. I should have known she'd ask.

"You probably don't want to," I reply, and this time I see her reproachful look.

"Why? Is there anything about me in there?"

"Not really. He just asked how you were doing," I answer truthfully. When she continues to wait, I sigh. "Most of it was about Aria," I tell her, and contempt flits across her face briefly before being expertly concealed. "That's why I don't think you should read it," I tell her, and she shrugs.

"Can I anyway?" she asks. I know I have the right to deny her, seeing as it is _my_ mail, but for some reason the thought of saying no makes me feel guilty. I shrug.

"If you really want to, I guess," I answer. "It's really not that interesting though." She shrugs back. A few moments later she casts me a hesitant look.

"You don't _mind_ do you?" she asks. "I mean, if you don't _want_ me to read it… It's your letter. You don't have to show me if you don't want to."

_Yeah, and then it will seem like I'm hiding something from you_, I think, sighing inwardly. I know she doesn't mean to seem suspicious of me or anything, but now I can't think of a nice way to tell her no. So I pull the letter from my pocket and hand it to her.

She unfolds it carefully and spreads it out on her knee, smoothing out the creases gently. I lean over to reread it over her shoulder.

_Jake-_

_Hey, long time no … what, speak? Write? Whatever. How's everything going? Things are normal here. I'm spending the week with Mum and Dad, Aria and Henry. Abby opted out of Christmas with the family this year (according to Josh, she has a __boyfriend_ _at Hogwarts; not sure I believe that, you know Josh and his tales). Christmas was pretty normal – way too many kids in much too small a house, you know, the usual. Gran cooked way too much food as per __her__ usual. Gotta love that woman._

_Quidditch training doesn't start up again until spring – late March I think Al said. So until then I don't have much to do – been thinking about getting a part time job somewhere for now. Dad's been trying to convince me to work as his personal apprentice or something (I told him he has owls and those enchanted memos at the Ministry, so what does he need me for?). Oh, yeah. Dad's gone back to work – he's finally gotten his butt out of the study at home (I think Mum told him to get back to the Ministry or quit his job because she was tired of him locking himself away in the den all the time)._

_Henry's lonely without Abby around. Poor kid doesn't know what to do with himself. He'll be much happier next year at Hogwarts – probably won't want to come home for Christmas next year either._

_Aria's doing well. She and Al have been getting to be really close friends – he's really helped her a lot. We weren't sure how she'd deal with seeing you and Danni at that Quidditch game, but Al's done a lot for her, which is good because that Drew friend of hers knows next to nothing about how to act around unhappy women. He must not have any sisters. He's a good guy though – either he or Kay comes around at least once a week for supper, Dad says. I haven't seen them since before Christmas though; they must be busy._

_Al's been around a lot though. He's good for Aria. If you want the truth, Jake, he's a lot like you. I mean, I know you knew him at Hogwarts when he was our Captain, but that was a long time ago – back then he was just this older kid who was an exceptionally good Quidditch player (compared to us anyway). Now… he's Aria's best friend. And he's been a really good friend to me as well. (Not that he could ever replace __you_,_ but still.)_

_I know Al feels something more than friendship for Aria (most blokes do, unfortunately, as you well remember), but she doesn't seem to mind (I know she __notices__ because whether she realizes it or not, she's extremely responsive to his __constant__ flirting). I think it's good though – he really cares about her, and she can really talk to him. That and the fact that he's very level-headed when it comes to her "episodes" as Mum calls them (however far and few-between they are these days)._

_But Aria's doing well – I thought you'd want to know that at least. She's really enjoying St. Mungo's, despite the fact that she complains incessantly about the older trainees delegating all the nasty jobs to her. I think she'd __live__ at the hospital if Dad would let her. She's still at home, but the last few days she's been talking about __maybe__ getting a flat in London. I think it would be better for her to get away from home. There's nothing left there for her except old memories anyway; what's she waiting for?_

_Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a happy holiday – it will probably about New Year's when you get this, depending on this post owl's speed and the weather I guess. So Happy New Year's, and I hope you had a happy Christmas as well. Write back soon; we all miss you here. Maybe sometime you could come visit my flat (it would be best to avoid home while Aria's still living there, I think). You could bring Danni – I never really got to talk to her._

_Hope you're doing well. Tell Danni hi and that I hope she's well too. How much longer until the baby's due? Five, six months? Remember to write back – and soon. Let me know if you're ever in Dublin. Go Ireland!_

_Always,_

_Sean_

"He spelled my name right," is all Danni has to say as she hands the letter back. I give her a slightly confused look. She shrugs at me.

"He's Aria's brother; I suppose it's only natural to talk about her," she says simply, and I feel a twinge of sadness. I'm as good as Aria's brother, yet _I'm_ not allowed to talk about her. Or at least, I know better than to try – I guess Danni's never _forbidden_ me from saying anything about her or something like that.

"We could go visit him sometime," I suggest, and she winces slightly.

"You could," she answers lightly. "He probably wouldn't want to see me."

"He said he did," I argue, and she gives me a look.

"He was just being polite, Jake. Do you honestly think he _really_ wants to get to know the girl who _stole_ you from Aria? I doubt it."

"You don't even know Sean," I say, starting to get annoyed. "He's like a brother to me; if you're part of my life he's going to want to know you too."

"Right," she says sarcastically. "And while we're at it we might as well just make him godfather of our baby."

I stare at her, and despite the sarcasm of it, the idea appeals to me. She gives me an incredulous look when she notices my thoughtful silence.

"_No_, Jake!" she exclaims angrily.

"Why not?" I ask seriously. "He's my best friend, Danni."

"He's _Aria's_ brother!" she spits, getting more furious by the second. "I'm not going to have _her_ brother as our child's godfather!"

"He's practically _my_ brother too," I answer softly, and she rolls her eyes, tears springing to them as she does so.

"But he's _not_, Jake," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "Okay? I know you wish he was, but he's _not_. He's _Aria's_ brother."

"He's still my best friend," I reply, and she shakes her head.

"No, Jake. Not him. Alright? Pick someone else – _anyone_ else; I don't care. Just. Not. Him."

I stare at her in disbelief. Before now she's never had a problem with Sean – I've talked about him before plenty of times, and she never seemed to mind. Unquenchable anger builds up inside me at her unfounded hatred of the one person I've _always_ had to turn to in my life besides Ron and Keira. Sean has been at my side through _everything_.

"You have to give him a chance," I say tersely. "You have to at least _try_ to get to know him before making a decision like that."

"I don't _want_ to get to know him," she snarls, jumping up. "Okay? I admit it. I _never_ want to meet him, or Ron or Keira or _anyone_ with the _stupid _name of _WEASLEY!" _she screams, tears running down her face. "I never want to _hear_ the name Weasley again because all it does is reminds me that you'd rather be _there_ with _her_ than with me and that _hurts_, Jake because I _love_ you, but you _don't_ love me! And it's all _her_ fault."

She sinks back onto the sofa, sobbing into her hands. I don't move toward her, still shocked. I've never doubted her complete and total hatred of Aria – which I still think is a bit unfair since Aria never did anything to her (if anything, _Aria _should hate _Danni_). But she's never once given any sign that talking about the other Weasleys made her uncomfortable.

"Danni…" I say hesitantly. "I'm not going anywhere," I remind her. "Alright? Just because I talk about the Weasleys-" I ignore the way she stiffens when I say that "-doesn't mean I'm leaving you. You know that."

"But you still love her," Danni chokes. "And you'd still rather be with her. If it weren't for the baby you wouldn't even be here anymore."

"Probably not," I whisper honestly, and another sob chokes out of her throat. "Because what we did was wrong and I wasn't going to repeat it ever again."

"And you would have gone back to _her_," she accuses me, not unfairly.

"Eventually," I murmur. "Once I'd found my dad." That catches her attention. We don't talk about my parents much – I told her a little about my mum to make her understand that I was better off at Ron's, and all she knows about my dad is that he's never been around, and that I'd been hoping to find him when I wound up here.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"After we … I was planning on leaving," I answer, and she frowns. "I knew Gran would be disappointed in me and I'd already overstayed my welcome. I was planning on leaving, but I didn't want to go without saying goodbye, and when you weren't around for those weeks… well I couldn't go; I figured I owed you at least a farewell. And then when you told me you were _pregnant_. I wasn't about to _abandon _you.

"But if things had happened differently, I would have left in search of my father, and then eventually I would have gone home," I finish quietly, and she makes a face.

"_Home_. How can you still call that place home?" she asks softly, and I sigh, annoyance sparking up again.

"Because it _is_ my home, Danni. It has been for as long as I can remember. I know they're not my blood relations, but they're _family_. Just like to you, my grandmother is family. You're not actually related to her, but you know her so well and you've known her so long that she _is_ part of your family. And just like Sean and me … he's still my brother, no matter what our blood is. He's still my best friend. And you should _still_ give him a chance, Danni, because if he _says_ he wants to get to know you then he _does_. He wouldn't put it in a letter just for the sake of keeping face – Sean isn't like that. But you can't know that because you've never given him a chance," I say pleadingly, and she just stares at me wordlessly.

"But …" I can tell I'm wearing her down; she's running out of excuses. "He's still… he's still _Aria's_…" she trails off again, looking down.

"What do you even have against her?" I ask quietly. She looks back up at me in surprise, which goes quickly to anger.

"You _love_ her," she accuses me, and I raise an eyebrow at her.

"I can't help that, and even if I could-" I stop before I can say something stupid. She gives me a wounded look.

"You still wouldn't change it," she finishes in a dead tone, her face blank again. I shrug.

"I don't know if I would or not," I answer truthfully.

"And if you had to choose between me and her?" she asks, and I feel galled by her bluntness. I stare at her, unwilling hurt her feelings, yet not able to lie to her face. Then I realize something just as her expression darkens.

"I already had to make that decision, didn't I?" say at last. She frowns.

"You chose the baby, not me," she answers. "I just happen to be the middleman, as it were," she adds, a tiny sardonic smile pulling up the corners of her mouth.

"Danni, look," I say seriously, and the smile disappears instantly. "I can't help who I love anymore than I can _make_ myself love you. I've known Aria for _years_ – she's been one of my best friends since I was eleven years old. We've known each other what, six months? I'm _sorry_ if that's not enough time for me to fall in love," I snap, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. She flinches away from me, and guilt fills me instantly. I hate that I can scare her like that.

"It's enough time for _me_," she says in a small voice, and I sigh, keeping my thoughts to myself. _It barely took you a month to decide what you wanted, and then all you had to do was find the right way to get it. And then when things went wrong you couldn't suddenly declare that you _didn't_ love me after all because now you _need_ me._

"I'm sorry, Danni," I say again. "But what has Aria ever done to you? How can you hate someone who's never done you wrong?"

Danni stares at the floor, looking troubled. After awhile she glances at me. "I bet Aria hates _me_," she whispers defiantly, "and she's never gotten to know me." I hold my tongue again. _She has_ every_ reason to hate you._ Danni must see something of that in my face however.

"I guess you think she has good reason to hate me, huh?" she asks dangerously, and I know better than to answer. When I remain silent, she makes a frustrated sound.

"Can't you just _forget?_" she asks, her voice breaking.

"Forget Aria?" I ask, the entire idea foreign. "Forget someone who has been a constant part of my life for nearly eight years? She's my _best friend,_ Danni," I say incredulously, and she sighs.

"I thought Sean was your best friend."

"They _both_ my best friends!" I exclaim. "And _no_, I can't "just forget" her!" I add, mimicking her cruelly in my anger. Her expression crumples into hurt at my mockery, but I can't stop. "Because yes, Danni, yes, _I love her_, okay? I always have and I probably always will and _nothing_ you say can change it and I'm SORRY!" I look around in surprise when I realize I'm standing. When did I get up? Danni is pressing herself into the sofa cushions, staring at me warily. I sink back down beside her, tears suddenly pushing at the back of my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, and my voice shakes as I say it. "What more do you want from me, Danni? I'm _here_ aren't I?"

"I want you to love me," she answers softly, getting up. When I look up at her, I see anger in her eyes. "That's all I ever wanted." Then she turns and strides into the hall. I listen to her bundling up again, and some sort of emotion between guilt and relief falls over me. Relief because I've been bottling that up for _months_. Guilt because this is our first real fight. We've bickered before – we do that a lot – but she's never _walked out_ on me.

"Happy bloody New Year," I hear her mutter before she opens the door and the sound of the wind drowns out anything else she might say. She slams the door behind her, and I bury my face in my hands. _Why does this always happen to me?_ I wonder. _And why are girls so _testy?

.x.

"Happy birthday to you; happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Jaaake… Happy birthday tooo yooou!"

I awake on the morning of January eighteenth to find Gran standing in at the foot of my bed, smiling at me in amusement as she sings softly. I groan and cover my face with a pillow to block out the brightness coming from my window. Stupid white snow.

"Not such a happy birthday?" asks Gran, and I peek out at her with a glare. She smiles sadly. "You still haven't talked to her?"

"It's been nearly three weeks," I complain, sitting up. "You'd think she'd have the decency to get her butt over here to apologize by now," I mutter, more to myself than to her. I hear Gran 'tsk', a noise that grates on my already frazzled nerves when it comes to things about Danni.

"Have _you_ ever considered apologizing to _her?_" she asks, and I sigh. Of course not. I'm too stupid for that sort of thing.

"I don't want to talk about it," I answer instead, and she just nods.

"Happy birthday anyway," she murmurs. "You have a couple of letters downstairs." Then she disappears to let me get ready.

I wrote back to Sean on New Year's Day, basically outlining my fight with Danni and briefly touching on Christmas here. He hasn't written back yet – I hope one of the letters is from him.

I get up and get dressed, not bothering to comb my hair because it doesn't do any good anyway unless I go plaster it down with water first, which I'm unwilling to do most mornings. I glance in the mirror and run a hand through it, making it stick up even more, then try flattening it. It doesn't really work, but it at least looks like I made a half-hearted attempt.

As I start down the stairs, I can smell what seems to be a promising birthday feast. When I stick my head in the kitchen, I see a simple breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes spread out, but it looks – and smells – fit for a king. I sit down eagerly, only to have at least five envelopes shoved into my hand by my grandmother.

"What are all these?" I ask, looking down curiously.

"A card from me, a letter from Sean, a card from Ron, a card from some Abby, and a card from someone named … Molly Weasley?"

Surprised, but not unpleasantly so, I start with the one from Abby. I open it to find a homemade card with a crudely drawn person – I guess it's supposed to be me – pushing a small, red-haired girl (Abby, I assume) on a swing. I smile at the poorly charmed drawing and open the card. A sound like a noisemaker going off blares feebly and a handful of confetti shoots into my face. I grin and read:

_Dear Jake,_

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hogwarts is great – I've made lots more friends and I'm having so much fun as a second year. Hope you're having fun on your trip – you should buy me a present! I don't have a present for you, because I couldn't think of what to get you. Sorry. I missed you last summer – I had no one to push me on the swing except Henry, and he's not a very good pusher. So I had to swing all by myself. You should come home soon. I miss you._

_Love,_

_Abby_

Smiling, I set it aside. Gran takes it and glances at the drawing with a small smile on her face before reading the inside.

"Abby is … Ron's younger daughter, right?" she asks curiously, and I nod. I pick up the envelope from Molly and slit it open, surprised when I find another homemade card – she's usually so busy with half her grandchildren running around the Burrow that taking the time to actually make me a card… I find myself touched, and suddenly wonder if I'm turning into some kind of pansy. The picture is an excellent drawing of the Burrow, charmed so that it's actually swaying in the wind like it's wont to do sometimes. I open it to see what Molly has to say.

_Dear Jake,_

_Happy birthday, dear. Hope you're doing well. We missed you at Christmas – it was just as noisy and chaotic as usual, but your absence was obvious all the same. Aria brought that Al friend of hers – I think he's a keeper. _(I feel my mouth twist into a smile as I think 'No, he's actually a Chaser', then scold myself for such a bad pun before continuing.)

_I would like to hear more about this Danni (it is Danni, right?) girl though. All I've heard so far has been from Ron or Sean. Write soon. We love you, don't forget that. Hope you have a wonderful birthday and many more happy days._

_Love,_

_Molly and Arthur_

_P.S. Jake, if you __ever__ need to talk, we're here for you with open ears. We won't judge you. Please don't forget that. You can drop in __any__ time you want. And this is just my opinion, but I think you'll be a wonderful father. Love you._

I smile sadly. They've tried so hard over the years to treat me like any of their other grandchildren – and for the most part they've succeeded. Yet I never learned to call them anything but Molly or Arthur – they made it clear from the start that yes, they would love me and care for me, but I wasn't their grandson. And yet … I still love them as if they were my grandparents. And I know that if I could ever feel comfortable with it, they'd let me call them my grandparents now, after all these years. But it would feel weird.

"Who are they?" Gran asks, tilting her head to one side as she reads over my shoulder. It surprises me that something like that doesn't bother me.

"Ron's parents. Aria, Sean, Henry, and Abby's grandparents," I answer carefully. I don't want to offend her or anything, so I say nothing about how they've always treated me so lovingly.

"So at least you had some sort of grandparents," she murmurs, her hand touching my shoulder lightly. "That's good." I smile.

"Which one next?" I ask, splaying out the three remaining envelopes. She shrugs.

"It's your birthday – you choose." So I do. I pick Sean's, wanting to save Ron's and Gran's for last.

It's not a card – Sean would never bother himself with actually _making_ one, and he's too lazy to go out and buy one unless he was walking along and coincidentally came across a shop selling cards. I pull out the letter and start reading.

_Jake-_

_Hey, sorry I didn't write back sooner – I got a job (I opted out of being Dad's personal servant – didn't pay well enough). I'm working for Uncle George in Diagon Alley. You'd be surprised how many kids there were in there the last week of holiday break from Hogwarts – __hoards__ of them, Jake. It was __awful__. But fun. And I figure, if I'm ever at loss for a gift, I can always use employee discount to get something there (that would just __thrill__ Aria, who, as you know, absolutely __loves__ all things from WWW – sarcasm intended)._

_Anyway, that's keeping me busy until spring training starts. I haven't seen anyone but Uncle George since New Year's (from the family I mean – there are tons of people in the shop every day, but I figure you don't care much for news about strangers). Dad sent me a letter last week though – Aria's been looking at flats in London. Al, Drew, and Kay have become almost permanent members of the Weasley household. Henry's still bored out of his mind. Abby refuses to tell me the name of her "boyfriend" (she denied having one – quite vehemently, which of course tells me she __does__ have one) in her letters._

_Is Danni still mad at you? I hope not – it's been what, three weeks now? That's a long fight if it is. Kind of a stupid thing to fight over anyway, Jake, considering you already made that decision – you can't __un__make it now. I mean, I know you __love__ Aria and everything, but sometime you're going to have deal with the fact that you __chose__ to walk away. __I__ think you're doing the right thing, but what matters is what you think, Jake. I know you can't help loving Aria, but was it really necessary to get all defensive about her? Isn't it all kind of, I don't know … irrelevant now?_

_Anyway, I hope you're both alright – you said end of May right? For the baby? Have you gotten over being terrified yet? Probably not, knowing you (no offense). Write back soon – and if you and Danni ever get things settled, __both__ of you should come visit me next weekend – I have the day off on Saturday. If I don't hear from you, I'll assume a negative. If Danni doesn't want to come she doesn't __have__ to, but I'd really like to meet her (again – though the first time was cut a little short by our favorite Healer-in-training). Despite what she may think, I don't hate her for "stealing" you from Aria (it's not __her__ fault she got pregnant – just like it's not __your__ fault, because you can BOTH share the blame)._

_Oh yeah, happy birthday. I almost forgot. (No, not really – how could I forget?) Hope you have (had?) a __great__ day!_

_Your best friend in the entire world who you could never ever replace no matter how awesome whatever new friends you find might seem because no one could ever replace him,_

_Sean_

_P.S. Seriously. No one could replace me. Don't forget – I'm awesome! Haha. Write soon. I miss you like crazy – it feels weird not to see you every day after like … thirteen (oh, almost fourteen now!) years. Hey, this means your nineteen now. Weird. Crap, gotta go. Lunch break's over. George is coming in all his one-eared fury. Bye!_

I grin at Sean's obvious reluctance to end the letter. Over my shoulder, I hear Gran laughing quietly to herself. I glance up at her, and she smiles at me kindly.

"He sounds like a good friend," she says, and I smile back.

"My best friend," I answer, and a stab of sadness goes through me. I look up again. "I think I will go see him on Saturday – with or without Danni. He's right – it's weird not seeing each other. He's like my brother."

"Better than a brother I'll bet," Gran answers with a sad smile. I nod.

"Exactly. At least _you_ understand," I mutter, thinking of Danni. I pick up Ron's envelope carefully, almost wary of it. I don't know how much more I can take of all this nonchalant talk of Aria.

"You could read mine next, if you want," Gran suggests quietly, taking a seat beside me. I set down Ron's letter with a sense of relief.

Gran's card is store-bought, and Muggle to boot – simple, with a picture of a birthday cake on the front. The inside print says only "Happy Birthday!" in big bold letters, but slipped inside is a sheet of parchment with a letter.

_Dear Jake,_

_Even though I didn't get to watch you grow up, I never got to rock you to sleep or hold you when you cried, I'm still your grandmother, and I still love you __very__ much. Words can't describe how horrible I still feel for not fighting harder when your mum left you with the Weasleys. I know you consider them family, and for that I'm glad – glad you that you had someone to love you. But that doesn't erase my mistake. And for that I'm sorry._

_I don't know what the future will bring, and I'm tired of looking back at my past. Live for today. Worry only as much as you need to in order to get to tomorrow. Look back not with regrets for the things that went wrong but with wisdom to prevent the same mistakes. Try not to focus so much on the negative. I'm always here if you need me, and I'll try to be a neutral territory for you._

_I think you'll be a great dad. Don't be so afraid – it's hard, but you have a lot of people who care about you behind you. You just have to open your eyes and see that. You haven't exiled yourself so much as you might think. I love you, Jake. Don't forget it._

_Love,_

_Gran_

I smile at her gratefully, and she waves away my thanks before I can even say them. Instead I get up and hug her. Taken by surprise, it's a few seconds before she can return the sentiment, but she does in the end, and when she pulls back, it's with a smile.

"Thanks," I whisper, sitting down again. Finally I pick up the letter from Ron, feeling as though it's some sort of judgment being passed on my guilt. With a deep breath, I slit the envelope open.

There is a card – one that Keira obviously made, because the artwork is beautiful and expertly charmed so that the drawing of Quidditch players – appropriately clad in green robes for Ireland – almost look like Sean and his teammates.

Inside, Keira has scrawled _Shoot for the Stars!_ and _Happy 19th Birthday, Jake_. The rest – written all over the opposite side and around Keira's short greeting – is in Ron's handwriting.

_Jake-_

_Happy birthday. It's hard to believe you're __nineteen__. It seems like just yesterday you were a runt of a five-year-old always getting into mischief with Sean. I miss those days. You two were so funny at that age. And now … now you're nineteen. The same age I was when Aria was born. Weird, huh? Scary, actually. History repeats itself in the strangest ways sometimes. Of course, I didn't actually __know__ about Aria until eleven years later, whereas your child isn't even here yet. Still…_

_I know you're probably sick of hearing it, but we all miss you here. Even Aria (__especially__ Aria) despite how good a show she puts on for her friends. Drew and Kay let things like that slide – Al can see right through her. He really cares about her. I know it'll hurt, and I'm sorry, but I hope they end up together, if only for awhile (I mean, I don't want her to __marry__ her or anything – not now; she's only eighteen – but he'd be good for her)._

_I didn't think it would be so hard to write this. Weird, huh? How easy it is sometimes to write a letter to someone, knowing you don't have to say it aloud, and yet other times it's so hard because you can't think of anything to say that won't come out sounding hurtful._

_How's Danni? (That seems like a safe question.) Sean mentioned – in passing in a letter – that the two of you had some sort of spat. I hope you've gotten it resolved by now. She needs you, Jake. And while we're on the subject… I want to meet her. I want to know this girl that has everyone in upheaval and heartbreak. Sean also happened to mention he invited you to visit on Saturday – if the two of you decide to go, I'm going to be there. And if you don't want me to meet her … I can wait. Although someday I expect you'll feel the need to marry her, so I __will__ have to meet her eventually._

_Sorry if I sound demanding or anything. How are __you__, though, Jake? Are you doing alright? If you ever need to talk, you know you can come visit. I would suggest that this time, you let me know you're going to drop by first though. We don't want a repeat of the last time you dropped by unannounced. Aria is doing so well. Al has worked miracles with her. For awhile there I was really worried about her. But now she's __almost__ back to normal._

_I have to end this – I'm running out of room. So I'll just say this. Be the best man, the best friend, the best person, the best __dad__ you can be, and don't let anyone tell you that your best isn't enough. Work hard. Don't forget that we're always behind you when you fall._

_Love,_

_Ron_

I stare at that word. "Love". Such a simple word. And yet … it makes me smile, coming from the man I've wished and wished for years on end was my real father.

"Can I?" Gran asks gently, gesturing at the letter. I nod and hand it to her. While she reads, I help myself to the food on the table before it all goes cold. I'm just about to dig into a huge pile of scrambled eggs when the doorbell rings. Scowling at the interruption, I get up to answer the door.

x.x

Danni

I stand on the front porch of the Parks' house nervously. I should have been here the day after we had that argument to apologize, but my own damn pride wouldn't let me. Until now. This morning when I woke up, I told myself to get over there or possibly _lose_ Jake. Not able to handle the possibility of that, I've decided to suck it up and apologize.

When he yanks open the door however, looking annoyed, my courage fails me, and I can't think of anything to say. He stands there staring at me for a few seconds before something in his expression softens and he steps forward, wrapping his arms around me wordlessly. I hug him back uncertainly, surprised. When he kisses the top of my head, I look up at him.

"That's it?" I ask hesitantly. "That's all I had to do?"

"That's it," he murmurs back. "Ten minutes ago, it wouldn't have been enough, but now… seeing you… it made me realize something." Heart thudding unevenly for a reason I can't explain, I look up at him half warily.

"What's that?" I ask softly, and he leans in and kisses me gently.

"We really need each other."

Disappointment washes over me, but I smile anyway. I should have known better than to hope he might actually say '_I love you_'. The happiness of not having him angry at me drowns that out though after looking at his smile. He hugs me one more time before leading me back into the house.

"Hello, Danni," Mrs. Parks calls from the kitchen, and I smile at her before taking my coat and boots off.

"Good morning," I answer, looking at the spread on the table hungrily. She laughs and gestures for me to sit. I do so without question.

With my fork halfway to my mouth already, I glance over to see Jake reading something – a letter it looks like.

"What's that?" I ask curiously, forgetting my hunger. For a second I see him frown in annoyance before sighing quietly.

"A letter," he answers curtly. I spoon some eggs into my mouth while he reads more. Swallowing, I open my mouth again to ask a question, but cuts me off. "It's from Sean. He wants to see us this weekend." _He wants to see _you_, you mean,_ I think, but I know better than to say that. I don't want to start another argument. Jake glances up at me with raised eyebrows.

"Will you come with me?" he asks, and I realize that he's going either way. I shrug uncomfortably.

"I guess," I mumble, reaching for some bacon. His hand intercepts mine, bringing my attention back to him.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he says gently. "But Sean says he'd like to see you." I chew on my lip uncertainly.

"I don't know," I murmur. "I guess I have nothing better to do." He gives me an encouraging smile before releasing my hand.

"Thanks," I hear him whisper, and I give a small smile. A flutter of nervousness goes through me however at the prospect of seeing Sean – I still remember the way he looked at me with dislike at that Quidditch game when Aria started crying. If nothing else, I guess this weekend will be interesting.

x.x

Sean

The front door opens of its own accord at ten o'clock on the nose Saturday morning. I wave without glancing up from my magazine. "Hey, Dad."

"Morning," he answers, walking straight past me into the kitchen. I roll my eyes. Typical. "What time are they supposed to be here?" he asks, rummaging through my cupboards. As if I actually have food in there.

"Soon," I answer. Jake wrote back the day after his birthday saying he and Danni would be here Saturday sometime between ten and eleven. I told Dad that since he never actually got a letter back from Jake he really didn't have permission to just show up, but he didn't listen. He wants to meet Danni, so I guess there's no stopping it now.

"You okay in there?" I ask, hearing something that sounds suspiciously like skull cracking on wood.

"Don't you have _anything_ to eat?" Dad mumbles, coming back into what serves as a living room in my flat, despite being part of the dining room and kitchen. He sits down in my one armchair, rubbing his head.

"No not really," I answer with a shrug. "There's some cereal under the sink though," I say, suddenly remembering.

"What's it doing under there?"

"You know, I'm not really sure," I reply. He just shakes his head at me, smiling in amusement.

"You're a strange kid, you know that?" he asks, and I grin at him cheekily.

"Like father, like son," I remind him, and he smiles. "Hey Dad?" I ask, and he raises an eyebrow at me expectantly, so I continue.

"Do you really think Jake will marry Danni?" I ask, half dreading his answer. He frowns and runs a hand over his face.

"I don't know, son. I think he might find it's the _right_ thing to do, but whether it's the _best_… I just don't know. Is it horrible of me to wish he wouldn't?" he asks softly, looking guilty even as he says it. I shrug.

"I don't really want him to either," I murmur softly. "Danni seems nice enough, but… I dunno, Dad. I always kind of though … he and Aria…." I trail off at Dad's grim look.

"I know what you mean," he answers. He gives a bitter laugh. "You know half of me always resented Jake just a little for winning Aria over so completely. She doesn't care about _anyone_ the way she cares about him, Sean," he says, frowning again.

I shrug. "He was her first friend at Hogwarts," I remind him. Then I smile sadly. "I still think part of her wanted to befriend him just because her mum forbade it," I add, and Dad looks at me in surprise. I grin.

"Didn't you know? After they bumped into each other in Diagon Alley, Aria's mum told her not to hang around Jake. Of course later she said she guessed she didn't mind, but I still think Aria sought out Jake's friendship just to irk her mum. I would have done the same thing I guess," I say thoughtfully. Dad grins.

"That does sound like something Aria would do," he muses. I open my mouth to remind him of all the other things Aria's done over the years to annoy him and Mum, but I'm cut off by a hesitant knock on the door.

"Come in!" I call, not bothering to stand. I'm sure Jake can handle a doorknob just fine. Dad looks up curiously as the door swings inward.

x.x

Jake

I take a deep breath when I see Ron sitting there across from Sean. He said he'd be here – I had half hoped he'd forget. And yet, when he smiles at me – however tensely – I can't help but feel some sense of relief. He doesn't hate me.

Danni presses into my side, and I look down, only just remembering she's still with me. She's looking a little woozy from Apparition. I wrap an arm around her and steer her forward through the doorway. Ron's eyes snap to her instantly, scrutinizing, evaluating, wondering. She presses a little closer.

"Hey, Jake, Danni," Sean says, finally standing to offer us the small sofa he'd been lounging on. He goes to the kitchen table and brings one of the chairs back, turning it backwards and straddling it, resting his chin on his arms on the back of the chair.

"Hey," I answer, nodding at him. I smile slightly at Ron. "Long time no see," I murmur, and his returning smile is sad. I sit down, pulling Danni with me. She curls up against me. Her shy act never fails to amuse me. For someone usually so loud and outspoken, it always strikes me as funny that she finds meeting new people – at least wizards from what I've seen – so intimidating. Then again, this is Ron, and even now I can see him trying to figure her out.

"This is Danni," I say unnecessarily, but Ron just nods. "Danni, this is Ron," I add softly, and she nods as well, looking terrified. "And you remember Sean." She just nods again.

"I'd give you a tour, but this is it," Sean says, sweeping his arm around with a grin. "Oh, and I guess the bedroom and bathroom are over there," he adds, waving in the general direction of a short hallway. I smile at him for his attempt to lighten the mood.

"Don't forget the balcony," Ron adds mock-seriously. "That's the most important part."

"Oh yes, the _balcony!_" exclaims Sean, slapping his forehead. "How could I forget? Oh, and the storage closet – that's very important as well."

I grin at him. "Of course it is," I answer, and he chuckles. I glance down to see Danni smiling uncertainly. I give her a gentle hug, and she glances up at me. "Relax," I whisper. She just sighs quietly and leans against me.

"So …" Ron says, looking for another topic. "How …" he wrinkles his brow. "How are … things?" he asks. I shrug at him.

"Alright. I'm still looking for a better job," I mutter, and an annoyed look crosses Danni's face before disappearing. "And … that's pretty much it," I say, shrugging again. "Interesting huh?" I give him a rueful grin, but he doesn't smile back. His expression is one of concern.

"What sort of work are you doing now?" asks Ron, and I look away, suddenly ashamed of it. I chew on the inside of my cheek nervously.

"Well… until I find something better, I'm working at a coffee shop," I murmur, suddenly hyper-aware of how successful his own two children are at their jobs. He just nods though.

"It's better than nothing," he comments, and Danni gives a tiny snort. I ignore it, but it catches both Ron and Sean's attention, and they look at her with identical expectant expressions. She blushes and stares at the floor.

"If you have something to say, say it," Ron says, his tone a bit harsher than it probably should be. Danni glances at him nervously and shrugs.

"I don't have anything to say, sir," she whispers. I give him a look. He's _scaring_ her. His expression has already softened though, realizing his mistake instantly.

"You don't have to call me sir," he says gently, and she slowly raises her head to look at him. "And you don't have to be afraid," he adds softly. She winces at that and casts me an accusing stare. I shake my head at her, knowing she's assuming I told them about Craig (which I _didn't_), and both Sean and Ron send me curious looks.

"Danni," Ron says softly, and she looks at him. He holds her gaze for a long moment, his brow dipping with concern. Finally she just bursts into tears and hides her face in my arm. I look at Sean, bewildered, and he shrugs.

"Hey," I whisper to her, stroking her hair out of her face. She looks up at me tearfully. "What's wrong?" She shakes her head and wipes her eyes on her sleeve.

"Nothing," she mumbles, embarrassed. "I'm being stupid."

"No," I protest, wiping away a stray tear on her chin. She gives me a shaky smile. "What's up?" She just shakes her head and entwines her fingers in mine.

"I'm fine," she insists. "Really."

"You know I don't think I believe you," I whisper, leaning close so only she can hear.

"I don't want to talk about it now," she whispers back, and I let it drop. For now.

x.x

Ron

I watch Jake with Danni, the way he holds her and talks to her. It reminds me of how he's always been with Aria. Actually, it's _exactly_ how he's always been with Aria, except I don't know if I ever saw him wrap his arms around Aria's waist and pull her so close she was nearly sitting in his lap the way he does with Danni. Not that she seems to mind in the least.

For a moment I almost wish he hadn't brought her, so I could talk to Jake alone. But I wanted to meet her, and Sean wanted the chance to get to know her better. And I'm glad she did come. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. I guess I had pictured someone … more confident maybe. Someone more like Aria (or how Aria was before Jake left anyway): sure of herself and confident in who she was. Danni doesn't seem that way to me now. And looking in her eyes earlier … I saw a whole lot of pain there.

Now Jake talks to her gently, and I can see her starting to relax in his arms. Sean catches my eye, one eyebrow raised in a question. I nod slightly at him, and he tilts his head to one side, giving a little shrug. He doesn't know what to think yet.

"So, Jake," Sean says, and Jake glances up automatically. "I never did find out – how did you and Danni like that Quidditch game you came to?" He looks at Danni for an answer, and a real smile spreads across her face. I suddenly realize that she's very pretty.

"I loved it," she says softly, her eyes bright. "Jake promised to take me to another sometime," she adds, smiling up at him. I catch something in that look that surprises me, though I guess it shouldn't. The way she looks at him – so adoring and _loving_ – reminds me (_again_) of Aria. She used to look at him like that too. And I don't know why it surprises me. Jake told me that Danni had said she loves him. I guess I just didn't have any evidence toward that until now.

Jake smiles back at her. "Maybe this summer," he says quietly, and her smile slips away. Something like regret washes over Jake's face when Danni focuses her attention on the floorboards again. Not understanding the exchange, I look at Sean, but he just shrugs.

"You guys should definitely come to a game this summer," Sean says, breaking the ice again. Then he frowns. "Except…" he trails off, looking at Danni, chewing on his lip. She looks back coldly.

"Except we should come when Aria's not around, right?" she asks darkly, surprising me with the anger in her tone. Then again, I suppose it would be only natural for her to resent Aria a little. Sean shrugs uncomfortably.

"Yeah."

Danni mutters something to Jake that sounds a lot like "I told you so" and he scowls, his jaw set angrily. Is that what their fight was about? Aria? Sean never would tell me; he said that if Jake wanted to share that with me he could, but Sean wasn't about to betray any secrets.

"How …" I trail off, and Jake looks over at me. Danni continues to stare darkly in the opposite direction. "How much longer?" I ask, glancing at Danni in time to see her eyes cut to me. She looks away quickly when she sees me watching.

"May," Jake answers, his expression still tense. I notice Danni stiffen slightly beside him, but I pretend not to see. Jake sighs then, all the fight going out of him in one fell swoop, and Danni glances at him when he deflates.

"Less than four months," he murmurs, more to himself than anything. He looks at me, suddenly searching for answers. "Ron…"

"You'll be fine," I assure him. "Just take things one day at a time, Jake. You'll _both_ be fine," I say when Danni looks over at me again.

"How do you know?" she asks, her tone torn somewhere between demanding and desperate. I offer her as comforting a smile as I can manage.

"I believe in you," I answer. "Both of you. I think …" I pause, trying to measure their responses. "I think you'll be good parents." Tears fill Danni's eyes again, and Jake stares hard at me, looking for … something.

"How can you do it?" Danni asks suddenly. I raise an eyebrow at her in question, and she elaborates. "How can you sit there and _not judge me_ for taking Jake from your daughter?" Jake winces at that, but says nothing, looking curious for the answer as well.

I shrug, deciding the truth is as good an answer as any. "I look at it this way, Danni," I tell her, feeling horrible for saying this in front of Jake, but not seeing any other options. I glance at him apologetically before continuing. "He could have said no."**

* * *

A/N**: I'm horrible I know. Mini-cliffie! I don't know if I'll continue the conversation next chapter or if I'll skip ahead. Give me your input! What would you rather have? More conversation (which is surprisingly hard to write by the way; I'm running out of things for them to talk about) or a transition chapter that can cover the span of a couple of months so we can move on? Or both rolled into one? Review, people! Tell me what you think!


	29. Nearly There

**A/N**: Alright! Thanks for the reviews last chapter! As you can tell from the title of this chapter, we are _nearly there_, as in, _next chapter_ is the one you've all been waiting for! No, Jake and Aria aren't getting reunited (yet); the other chapter you've all been waiting for! It's baby time! Yay! Haha. I'll see how soon I can get number thirty up. Just in case any of you aren't sure though, next chapter **is not **the last chapter. I think there will probably be... at least five more after this one, if not more. I'm sticking to 35 as my absolute limit, so we'll see how it goes. Okay, time to read now, so I'll shut up! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Nearly There**

Ron

The house feels empty without Aria. I mean, she spent seven years at Hogwarts, so one would think I'd have grown used to only seeing her and the boys two and a half months out of twelve. But the fact is, I'd gotten even more used to having her around, seeing her every morning at breakfast and every evening at supper. It feels strange now that she's gone, her bedroom nearly empty of furniture. I miss her.

Henry's absolutely beside himself with boredom, poor kid. He was used to having Aria gone during the day, and usually found ways to occupy himself, but he always looked forward to evenings with Aria. Now he has no one but Keira and me, and he's getting to that stage where he'd rather not hang out with his boring old parents.

I've only gotten one letter from Jake in the three months it's been since I saw him and Danni last, and that was in March. I glance over at it now, lying half-hidden beneath a book on my desk. Sighing, not having anything better to do anyway, I pick it up and unfold it again.

_Dear Ron,_

_Everything's going well. I've gotten a different job. It's nothing special really, but it pays better than my last one. I'm working at a Muggle bookstore (Aria would approve) just a few streets over from Gran's house. I like it there._

_Danni's doing fine. She says hi (she's sitting across the table from me "doing her homework" but I think she's just doodling instead of writing her essay on some Muggle book she insists was the most boring thing she's ever read). She's … getting better about things that have to do with Aria. She can actually say her name without scowling now (I was impressed), and we've been talking a lot lately about maybe (big maybe) having Sean as our godfather, but neither of us are positive about it yet (it's kind of a lot to ask of him, considering he's met Danni only twice now)._

_How is Aria? Sean said she moved out and got a flat in London; that must be different for you. I hope she's doing well – Sean hasn't said too much about her in his letters except for the moving out part. Is she … "with" Al or what? I haven't heard much._

_Other than that I don't have much to say. Danni's given up on her essay – she's arguing that it's not due till next week anyway, and that the sound of my pen against paper "distracts her". Personally, I think she's just looking for an excuse to put it off. But that's just my opinion._

_So I'll go. But I just thought you'd want to know that things are going well for us. Thanks for everything, Ron._

_-Jake_

It still bothers me that he calls his grandmother Gran. I don't know why – she _is_ his grandmother; it shouldn't bug me. It doesn't bother me that he calls his mother Mum (though he usually says it with a sarcastic edge, which might be the difference). Maybe it's just that he barely knows the woman, and he's so easily given her that title, where he's never called _my_ parents by anything but their first names, and they've been as good as any grandparents to him for years now.

I sigh and set the letter aside again before leaning back in my chair. I sent him a letter back, basically telling him not much was different around here, except for Aria moving out and that as far as I knew she and Al were still just friends (though slowly moving forward). I haven't heard from him since. I talked to Sean a few weeks ago, and he said he's only heard from him twice since January.

I consider writing him another letter, but if he hasn't answered the last two I sent, I have to wonder if one more will do anything at all. Maybe he's purposely trying to distance himself from us. Maybe he's having problems with Danni. Maybe he lost his job. I don't know.

Feeling completely useless, wishing I could help, I get up. I stare sadly at the empty space that used to house my somewhat broken settee – Aria asked if she could have it for her flat, and Keira, wanting nothing more than to get the thing out of the house, agreed eagerly. I sigh again and go into the living room. Keira's gone grocery shopping, and Henry's out flying around on one of Aria's old brooms, so the room is empty. I sink into the sofa with a small groan. Maybe Keira's right; maybe I _do_ work too much. Suddenly glad it's Sunday, I lean back and close my eyes, thinking a nap sounds good right about now…

x.x

Aria

The knock on the front door startles me so much that I nearly drop the book I've been studying for work. Setting it carefully on the sofa, I get up to answer the door.

"Al!" I say in surprise when I see his smiling face. I give him a hug before inviting him inside. He frowns playfully at my broken-down sofa.

"I still say you should throw that thing out," he sighs, settling into an old armchair that used to be in my room when I first moved in with Dad. I hadn't even known Keira and Dad had still had it stored away before I asked if there was any other furniture they wanted me to take off their hands. Keira practically shoved it down my throat in her eagerness to get rid of it.

"Be nice to this old sofa," I argue, sitting back down and sinking halfway to the floor. He just shakes his head with a grin. I smile back. "So what brings you here?" I ask, and he gives me a mock-hurt look.

"I can't just drop by?" he asks. "I have to have a _reason?_ That hurts, Aria. I thought we were friends," he says, pouting playfully. I roll my eyes at him.

"Whatever, Al," I say, and he smiles wryly. "So there's no reason at all?" I prod, and he grins again.

"I missed you, is that reason enough?" he asks, getting up suddenly and coming to sit down beside me. The settee groans slightly under the added weight, but he makes no comment.

I lean against him, overly familiar with this routine by now. His arms wrap around my waist loosely, and I feel his head leaning against mine. "I missed you too," I murmur, suddenly realizing how long it's been since I saw him last – nearly three weeks. We've both been busy, and now that his Quidditch training has started again I barely see him.

His answering kiss on the side of my head surprises me, but I smile and press back against him, leaning my head back on his shoulder. He hugs me. "It's been way too long since I saw you," he complains, and I laugh.

"I couldn't agree more," I sigh, smiling, and it's his turn to laugh. "How's Sean?" I ask, suddenly feeling guilty for not asking about my brother sooner. I feel Al shrug.

"Same. Loving being on a broomstick again almost as much as the rest of us, looking forward to our first match in a few weeks. You should come," he suggests, and I crane my neck to look at him in surprise. He smiles at my expression. "If you want to," he adds with a teasing grin.

For just a moment I feel the strangest urge to close the small gap between our faces and kiss him. The sensation passes quickly though, and I blink, shaking my head slightly. His smile doesn't falter, but I see something in his eyes questioning my hesitation. I force a smile at him.

"Of course I want to," I answer, and his arms tighten around me in another quick hug.

"Well that's good; I was afraid you'd suddenly decided Ireland wasn't your favorite team anymore," he jokes, and I grin. I don't bother to tell him that before Sean joined, I could have cared less how Ireland did – he probably already knows that. He tilts his head to one side, suddenly staring at me much more intently, as though trying to find something hidden in my expression. I stare back, confused and in turmoil. That feeling is back.

Al blinks and clears his throat nervously, looking away and taking a deep breath as though to recompose himself. I wait until he glances back down at me, still looking uncertain.

We never did talk about what almost happened at Christmas, and since then we've both done our best to put it behind us. For the most part it's worked – no resulting awkwardness has hindered our friendship or anything. If anything … it's really just made us closer. Weird, really.

"So…" I say, trying to find something to talk about. I lean away from him just a little bit, and he seems to relax a little bit. I find this funny – _he's_ nervous about _me_ kissing him, when it should be the other way around. …Shouldn't it?

Confused again, and unable to focus on whatever Al's saying, I sit there and pretend to listen to him, staring and trying to understand my strange feelings.

On the one hand, having Al kiss me would make feel ridiculously disloyal to Jake, which is stupid because it's not like we are (or ever were) dating. Besides that, Jake has Danni, and it's not like _he's_ worrying about being disloyal – at least not to _me_.

On the other hand, I feel like Al and I have _something_ more than friendship, yet we're not dating either. And being apart from him for the last three weeks has made me feel strangely incomplete, which I don't understand at all. Then of course there's the fact that there's part of me that really _wants_ to kiss him, and that part is growing louder every time I see him.

"…right?" he finishes, looking to me for my opinion. I search quickly for something to say. Coming up with nothing creative, I give him a sheepish look.

"Sorry," I say, smiling ruefully. "I didn't catch any of that."

He doesn't look too troubled. "Too busy staring at my flawlessness?" he asks mock-arrogantly, pretending to flip his hair – as if it's actually long enough to flip. All it does is shake slightly before settling again. I smile at his attempt.

"Of course," I reply jokingly, and he wraps his arms around me again. I don't even realize he's kissed me on the cheek until he's pulling away. I look up in surprise, and he stares at my face as though not quite sure what he just did. I give him a tentative smile.

"Um…I'm sorry," he says, looking abashed. He starts to pull away, but I lay a hand on his arm and he pauses.

"It's fine," I assure him. He just stares at me for a few seconds before nodding slowly, sighing, and running a hand through his hair. The gesture reminds me of Jake, and my heart aches for a few seconds before I push it away.

"Aria…" he starts, peering at me anxiously. "Do…d'you think that maybe…maybe we should…I dunno… Talk about …" he trails off, looking nervous and embarrassed. He bites his lip and smiles slightly. "…us?" he asks rather nervously.

The thought scares me a little. Al is my best friend. I don't want to lose that. And yet … I know we _should_ talk about it. I know – or suspect I guess – how he feels about me. And however much I might not want to admit it … I feel _something_ for him, even if I'm not quite sure what it is yet.

"Probably," I murmur at last. I sigh and look up at him again. "Yes," I correct. "Definitely. We should talk." It shouldn't be _that_ hard, right? I mean, I talk to him about almost everything else. Easy. Right.

"You wouldn't think it would be so weird," he mutters, more to himself than anything. "I mean, what else _haven't_ we talked about?" I don't point out the number of things we've never discussed, because they're irrelevant anyway. I understand his point.

"Yeah," I agree quietly. "You'd think it would be … easy," I say with a shrug and an awkward smile. He nods back.

"Easy," he echoes, still staring at me. "So…"

"So." I sigh again, hating the sudden difficulty we're having. It shouldn't be this hard to talk to him! We talk about _everything!_ Why should the thought of discussing what we may or may not feel for one another terrify us? He's seen me at my absolute worst – this is _nothing_ compared to that.

Except it is. Because this could define whatever our relationship is from now on. This could take us from "best friends" to "more than friends". I swallow nervously, and he breathes a deep sigh again.

"This is stupid," he mutters. I glance at him, and I understand he doesn't mean the "us" part, but more the trouble we're having taking to each other. I nod in agreement, trying to think of something – anything – to say.

Finally I just wing it.

"You haven't tried to kiss me lately," I say lightly, and his expression contorts into some strange combination of a grimace and a grin. He glances at me and smiles more when he sees my teasing expression.

"I've been waiting for the opportune moment," he says, and even though his tone is light enough, I can see the truth of it in his eyes. He doesn't want to chase me away.

"Me too," I whisper, looking down. A second later his hand is under my chin, lifting my face to meet his honestly shocked gaze.

"You're serious," he whispers, looking entirely flabbergasted. "I thought… I mean, I guess I just assumed…"

"You know what happens when you assume things," I murmur, smiling slightly. (**1**)

He chuckles before becoming serious again. "You mean it?" he asks, searching for an answer in my face. Hesitantly, entirely unsure this is what I want, I reach up and put a hand against his cheek. He just stares at me, waiting.

"I think so," I answer truthfully.

"You don't…" he bites his lip again. "You don't have to do this for me," he answers, looking extremely self-conscious. His openness is what forces my hand. I make a split-second decision.

"I'm not doing it for you," I reply, leaning forward and pressing my lips against his. He pulls back slightly in surprise, but I don't let that deter me. After a few more seconds of shocked stillness, he starts kissing me back.

"Aria," he whispers against my lips. I pull back and open my eyes. He stares at me speechlessly for a moment. "What…?" I smile at his confusion.

"Just kiss me," I say when he doesn't move for another long minute. He blinks and shakes his head as though to clear it. Finally, he looks at me again. A slow smile spreads across his face.

"I think I can do that," he replies, leaning in again. I smile. _This is my decision,_ I think, and I feel the slightest twinge of sadness at that. _But Jake's already made his,_ I remind myself, and the pain disappears. _That's right. Jake's already _made_ his decision. And now I'm making mine._

x.x

Jake

It's raining. Just when I thought winter was over and we might finally get some sunshine and nice weather, it starts _raining_. Great. Just wonderful. _Rain_. Yuck.

I stare outside glumly, watching the water run in rivulets down the glass of the big display window in the bookstore. There's been _one_ customer _all day_. Bored out of my mind, wondering when the rain will stop, I lean against front counter with a sigh.

"Bored again, Jakey?"

I wheel around to see Kaitlyn, my only company during my six-hour shift. Kaitlyn has been on my back since my first day here, teasing me, mocking me, making me the butt of jokes only she gets. I guess I really don't mind much – she sort of treats me like a little brother, and she's better company than our nearly senile old boss Denise, or her grouchy, thirty-something son Pete.

"Business is slow today," I reply, and she shrugs, leaning beside me.

"It's because you're here," she teases, ruffling my hair. I duck out from under her hand. "You just scare all the customers away."

"Oh, ha, ha, that's hilarious," I say sarcastically, scowling at her. She just grins, knowing neither of us means it. Work would suck without Kaitlyn – she's always finding _something_ to entertain me, even if it's just banter like this.

"Well, it's true," she says. "After you leave, business really picks up." I roll my eyes at her, fighting a smile.

"It can't have anything to do with the fact that my shift ends at three, and not long after that school gets done, and then everyone is getting off of work," I say pointedly. She pretends to consider this seriously for a moment or so before shaking her head.

"No, I don't think that's it." She grins, and I smile slightly. She leans over and ruffles my hair again, ignoring me when I give her another scowl. "You're so funny when you're trying to be crabby," she jokes, and I roll my eyes again.

I like Kaitlyn, despite her constant teasing. She latched onto me as soon as I walked through the door for my first day, practically worshipping me for "saving" her.

"_Oh, god, you must be the new kid! Do you have any idea how awesome you are? I mean, I guess I was expecting someone a little…scrawnier…" she scrutinized me, seeming a little surprised at my height. Then she shrugged. "No, you still rock. You're my savior, kid. My new best friend, got that?"_

_I stared at her, not quite sure what to make of this over-friendly, older girl talking to me like she's known me for years. She just grinned up at me._

"_What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? I'm not _that_ scary," she joked. That was the first time she ruffled my hair. The sudden action of affection shocked me. "But seriously, you're saving me, here. I had to work with _Pete_ before," she said, shuddering. "What a creep. I swear it was like he's undressing me with his eyes every time he came in the room. And he's like _thirty-five!_ Isn't that disgusting?"_

She'd prattled on for ten minutes more before finally deciding to brief me on how to work the cash register. Since then she's felt the need to share with me her entire life story – she's twenty-three, living on her own, working two or three different jobs to keep rent, and studying to become a teacher or something (I'm not really sure; I wasn't actually listening by that point). Kaitlyn never ceases to amaze – or annoy – me with her constant cheerfulness. It's like she doesn't have an _off_ switch. Normally it's a little annoying, but today it's almost welcome, I'm so bored.

She reminds me a lot of Aria sometimes, actually. They look nothing alike – Kaitlyn's hair is short, only down to her chin, and much darker than Aria's, and her eyes are a strange greenish gray hazel color that seems to change with what she's wearing. She's tall – taller than Danni, so _much_ taller than Aria, and completely and utterly confident in herself. I don't think I've ever seen her look uncertain about _anything_.

But in other ways – how happy she always is, how she can talk for _hours_ about nothing important, how she doesn't seem to have any respect for my personal space – those things remind me of Aria (not that I'd ever minded Aria's lack of respect for my personal space really, but that's beside the point).

I haven't felt the same need to share my life with her though. Whenever she asks me what I'm doing working a dead-end job like this, I shrug and tell her that I need the money, and that's usually the end of it. Sometime she'll push the issue and I'll tell her I'm trying to get a place of my own, and then I'll change the subject. She always lets it drop after that.

"Hey, Jake?" Kaitlyn asks now, her face screwing up in confusion and curiosity. I sigh quietly to myself.

"What?"

"You know I was just kidding right? I didn't mean all that crap." She looks so genuinely concerned that I might be offended that I smile.

"I know, Kate," I answer, rolling my eyes and grinning. "You never mean anything you say."

"That's not true," she argues, still not looking convinced. "I mean it when I say I didn't mean it."

I laugh at that, and a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. "Okay, I'll give you that. That sounded weird," she says, smiling. "But really, Jake. I didn't offend you or anything, did I?"

"Of course not," I assure her.

"You just looked … upset," she explains hesitantly. "I didn't want you to think I meant any of that.

"It wasn't what you said. I just … don't like the rain," I say half-truthfully. "It's depressing."

"I love the rain!" she says in disbelief, grinning. "It's so pretty, and it smells so good, and it sounds so cool, and … I just love it!" she exclaims, and I groan at her in mock-horror.

"Not you too," I sigh. "Does _everyone_ like the rain except for me?" I joke, and she laughs. I duck away before she can ruffle my hair again, and she just smiles.

"You really don't like it?" she asks, tilting her head to the side. I shake my head at her.

"Really don't. It's just … depressing and cold and wet…" I shudder. "Yuck." She rolls her eyes at me fondly.

"You're weird. The rain is _beautiful_. You must be blind not to see that."

"It's _cold _and _wet_," I repeat, making a face. "It's horrible. You walk in that and get soaked to the bone and get sick and then you're snuffling for weeks… No, thank you."

She just laughs again. "You're a strange kid, Jake." For some reason it doesn't offend me when she calls me a kid. I shrug at her.

"Maybe I'm just the only normal one in a sea of crazies," I counter, and she smiles.

"Maybe," she says thoughtfully. Then she reaches over and tousles my hair again. "But I still think you're just weird."

I grin at her before returning to her side and leaning against the counter again. I sigh, and she glances up at me – she doesn't have to glance too far, considering how tall she is.

"Can I ask you something?" she asks, suddenly more serious than usual. I feel a flutter of unease, but I shrug and gesture for her to get on with it. She considers my expression for a moment before continuing.

"How come you never want to talk about your family? I've told you all about mine," she says, and I agree silently. I've heard _all_ about her three brothers, her six nieces and two nephews, how she wishes the ones who lived farther away lived closer and the ones that lived near her were farther away. I've heard story after story about holidays and birthdays – all of them ending in some chaotic scene involving screaming children. If I ever meet her family – though I don't know why I would – I could probably greet every one of them by name.

I sigh again. "My life is … complicated," I answer at last. She chews on that for a minute or so before glancing up at me again. I brace myself for more questions.

"You said you live with your grandmother?" she asks, tilting her head to one side curiously. I nod stiffly, wishing she'd stop, but of course she doesn't. This is what one customer in six hours will do to coworkers. "What happened to your parents?" she asks gently, as though afraid I'll say they're dead or something. _Sometimes I wish…_ I stop myself with that thought. My mother might be horrible, but I wouldn't wish _death_ on her.

I shrug. "I've never met my dad, and _dear_ Mum travels a lot," I reply, giving the 'dear' a heavy sarcastic edge. Kaitlyn looks surprised at the coldness of my tone.

"Don't you get along with your mum?" she asks. I glower at the floor.

"She could honestly care less about me," I say darkly, and Kate looks worried that she might have hit a nerve. I glance up at her and give her a grim smile. "We get along better with a couple oceans between us."

"That's sad," she says softly, looking down. I shrug again.

"I'm used to it," I assure her. "It's only been fourteen years now," I add sarcastically. When she looks puzzled, I sigh again, realizing my mistake. "Since she left," I say, and comprehension flits across her face.

"So no brothers or sisters?" she asks, obviously hoping to steer me in a different direction now. I shake my head, deciding not to say anything about Sean, despite the fact that he's better than any brother ever could have been to me. A tongue of disloyalty toward him flickers through me, but I remain tight-lipped.

"Wasn't that lonely growing up? I don't know what I would have done without my brothers." I realize I'm not getting out of this quite so easily at that. I sigh one more time, a heavier, resigned sigh, and she seems to sense that change.

"Alright, Kaitlyn, you win," I say softly. "If you really want to know my story, I'll tell you, but it's not a happy one," I warn her. "Get comfortable," I add darkly. "It's a long one."

So I start way back at the beginning with Ron and Keira and Sean, and how they graciously took me in and raised me. I skip over the parts involving magic, substituting my Hogwarts letter with a boarding school acceptance. I tell her about meeting Aria, and she laughs at how we ran into each other (I edit the part with the fireplace out, figuring that would only confuse her).

The time passes more quickly as I tell her about Aria, about falling in love with her. I'm nearly to the part about leaving to look for my dad when I glance up and notice the clock.

"Oh," I say, surprised. "It's already time to go."

Disappointment flashes across Kaitlyn's face instantly. "Aw, and you were only half done," she complains, and I smile slightly. "Will you tell me the rest on Friday?" she asks, looking truly hopeful, and I can't help but laugh a little.

"Sure, if business is this slow," I agree, and she grins.

"Hey, Jake?" she asks as I pull my raincoat on. I glance back at her curiously when I hear the tone of her voice. She's looking at me thoughtfully. "Thanks. For trusting me with your story," she says, biting her lip slightly. "I know how hard it's been for you to open up to me. I'm glad," she finishes, nodding slightly. She gives me a tentative smile. I half-smile back.

"Thanks for listening, Kate," I reply. "See you Friday." She waves as I walk out into the rain.

I haunch my shoulders against the cold rain, hating the weather. All the way down the street and around the corner and down an abandoned alley, I think about how trusting and open Kaitlyn is. Seeing how willing she is to wear her heart on her sleeve and pour out her life to people, I have to wonder if she's ever had her heart broken before. It makes me sad to think there could be some bloke out there who might someday take that cheerfulness away from her.

Secluding myself behind some trash bins, I glance around quickly to make sure no one can see me before Apparating directly into the front hall of Gran's.

I hear the sound of something hard smacking against wood, a yelp and a curse. I bite back a smile. Danni must already be here. I hang up my coat and kick off my wet shoes before sticking my head into the dining room. Danni is in there, sitting at the table with books and papers spread in a large semicircle in front of her, rubbing her knee. She looks up and glares when she sees me watching her.

"You could give some sort of warning before you just _pop_ in here like that," she says irritably, and I grin at her. She scowls and bends her head over her work again. I go and sit down in a chair next to her.

"I hate English," she mutters, shoving the textbook away angrily.

"So take up French," I joke, and she just glares. I sense she's in a truly bad mood, and I back off before she can get even angrier. "What's wrong?" I ask in a careful voice – just about anything can set her off these days, including tone of voice. Then again, the fact that she's going to have a baby in less than a month might have something to do with it.

She sighs deeply, leaning her head on her hand and closing her eyes. I wait, not pushing the issue. Eventually she glances at me.

"I'm so tired," she whispers, yawning as she says it. "And I have _so_ much work to do."

"You want me to go?" I ask, not sure if I'd be a distraction. She shakes her head wearily.

"No, stay. Read a book or something. Just stay. I feel like I haven't seen in you in forever," she sighs, slipping her fingers through mine. I squeeze her hand gently.

"I've been working," I apologize, and she nods understandably. The bookstore isn't the only job I've been working the last couple of months. It doesn't pay enough, but it's _something_, and since they couldn't – or just wouldn't – hire me full-time, I had to get another job. I'd have my own flat already if there were any nearby – the closest complex one isn't even remotely within walking distance.

"I know; I'm not blaming you," she assures me. "I just miss you." I lean over and kiss the side of her head, and a brief smile touches her exhausted expression.

"I'm going to go change clothes, then I'll be right back," I say, gently pulling my hand from hers. She nods, heaves a sigh, and starts back with her homework. I can already tell it's going to be a long night.

.x.

When I get to the bookstore on Friday morning at exactly nine o'clock, Kaitlyn is already there, flipping absently through a fashion magazine at the front counter. She looks up when the bell over the door chimes as I walk through. Her face brightens considerably when she sees me.

"Jakey! I thought you'd _never_ come! I'm so bored!" she exclaims, trailing me to the back room as I hang up my coat, "forgetting" that there's no one left out front to man the cash register. Not that it matters; there aren't any customers.

I smile at her a little sleepily. Danni called me in the middle of the night crying again, and I had to talk to her for more than an hour to calm her down. It briefly occurs to me that this is considered tame compared to having to feed a baby every two hours. I sigh at that thought. Only a couple of weeks left… Fear flickers through me again, but I've become so used to it that I can push it away now. Kaitlyn follows me back out to the counter, talking animatedly about something her three-year-old nephew did that was absolutely _adorable_. I try not to look as disinterested as I feel, but she catches on.

"Are you okay?" she asks, breaking off mid-story. I shrug.

"Tired. Stayed up too late last night … reading," I invent on the spot, feeling a twinge of guilt for lying to her, but she doesn't seem to notice. She just nods like she's been there.

There's silence for all of two minutes before she suddenly nudges me. I jump and look down at her to see she's watching me expectantly. It takes me a moment or two to remember that I promised to finish my ever-depressing story today. I sigh.

"Right," I mutter, leaning heavily on the counter. "Where'd we stop?" I ask, trying to wake up and buy time simultaneously.

"You were telling me about you "torturing" Aria," she says at once, and I smile at the memory. It seems like it was another lifetime that Aria and I were wrestling in my Hogwarts dormitory.

I resume from there, explaining about wanting to find my dad. She just listens, her expression mostly impassive, at least up until I start taking about Danni.

"Wait a second!" she interrupts, and I stop. She glares up at me incredulously. "You had this _perfect_ girl, Aria, back home _waiting _for you, obviously _completely in love with you_, and now you're talking about this _Danni_ girl? What the heck?" she demands, looking so honestly upset that I can only stare at her. After a minute or so of this, she sighs. "Get on with it then," she mutters.

So I start telling her about Danni – frequently interrupted by Kaitlyn's outbursts of "How could you?!" I'm almost to the part about sleeping with her when the phone starts jangling in the back room. For a reason I can't explain, the sound is ominous and frightening. As Kate rolls her eyes and goes to answer it, I want to shout at her to stop, but I realize how ridiculous I'm being.

Kaitlyn rattles off the name of the bookstore and the customary, "How can I help you?" She gets really quiet then, obviously listening hard. I watch her anxiously, and she glances up at me.

"It's for you," she says, handing me the phone, looking troubled and confused. I take the receiver and raise it to my ear warily.

"Hello?" I ask softly. I can feel Kaitlyn's eyes on my face.

"Jake! Thank goodness. You need to get to the hospital. It's Danni." Icy fear shoots through my veins instantly at these words.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask, fearing the worst. To my great surprise, Gran chuckles on the other end.

"She's going to have a baby, Jake. If you haven't figured that one out after nearly nine months, there must be something seriously wrong with your head. I'll see you soon." The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone in my hand with the strangest mixture of horror, shock, and … excitement?

"Jake?" Kaitlyn asks gently, prying the phone from my white-knuckled grip. "Jake, what's wrong?"

"I need to get to the hospital," I manage at last, blinking in surprise. Worry immediately blankets everything else on her face.

"What's wrong? Is someone hurt?" she asks, laying a hand on my arm in concern. I nearly laugh, but I can't find the energy to do so.

"No," I say, looking at her with as much amusement as I can manage, considering the utter turmoil of the rest of my emotions. "I'm going to be a dad."

* * *

**A/N**: Oh boy! Next chapter should be fun, huh? Tell me what you think of Kaitlyn; she was kind of a spur-of-the-moment invention. I figured Jake needed a friend. I'd kind of like to keep her around, but I need your input. Opinions? Review!

(**1**) If any of you have honestly never heard this joke before, let me explain. (And I _know_, almost everyone already knows it, but the first time I ever heard it was here on ff, and I want to explain it in case someone _doesn't_ understand.) So here goes:  
Q: "You know what happens when you assume things, right?"  
A: "You make an **ass** out of **u **and **me**."  
Not very funny if you've heard it a thousand times before, but if you're a first-timer, I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for all of those for whom it was glaringly obvious, but not all of us can be so well-informed (no offense to anyone).

That's all! Please review! I'll get the next chapter out as soon as possible! Thanks!


	30. A Summer Melody

**A/N**: Haha, C30. Yes, I'll explain. I save the chapters on MS Word as c(number), so this chapter for example, would be saved under c30. And for all you Twilighters out there who are closely following the making of the movie, you'll know that Edward's Volvo is a C30 in the movie. This just made me think of that. I apologize for my silliness. Read on!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: A Summer Melody**

_Previously:  
__  
Jake_

_I stare at the phone in my hand with the strangest mixture of horror, shock, and … excitement?_

"_Jake?" Kaitlyn asks gently, prying the phone from my white-knuckled grip. "Jake, what's wrong?"_

"_I need to get to the hospital," I manage at last, blinking in surprise. Worry immediately blankets everything else on her face._

"_What's wrong? Is someone hurt?" she asks, laying a hand on my arm in concern. I nearly laugh, but I can't find the energy to do so._

"_No," I say, looking at her with as much amusement as I can manage, considering the utter turmoil of the rest of my emotions. "I'm going to be a dad."_

.x.

Kaitlyn stares at me, uncomprehending for about five seconds before turning abruptly and all but slamming the phone down on its cradle.

"Do you have a car?" she demands, already going about locking up as I stand there in a daze. I shake my head to clear it, and she takes that as a negative answer.

"I'll drive you," she says automatically.

"I don't need-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"Let's go." She grabs my arm and drags me out the back door, practically shoving me into a little silver car and slamming the door behind me. She climbs into the driver's seat without a word, and seconds later we're flying through the city.

It occurs to me, after two or three minutes of silence, that I never asked _which_ hospital. But that doesn't seem to bother Kaitlyn – she doesn't ask either, so I assume she knows where she's going. After another two minutes or so, as she screeches to a halt at a red light, making me grip the sides of my seat in terror, she glances at me with poorly-disguised accusation.

"So you're going to be a dad?" she asks, her eyebrows so high they would disappear if she had short bangs. "That's … big," she says, her tone slightly wounded.

"That was the second half of the story," I say softly, chewing on the inside of my cheek in anticipation. I realize my heart is racing and my breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. She reaches over and touches my arm.

"Calm down, Jake," she says seriously. I shake my head at her and nod toward the street.

"Light's green." She pretty much slams on the accelerator and we shoot forward. I grab my seat again, and she grins, noticing my new-found fear of cars.

"So …" she says after another short silence, and I take a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. She glances at me probingly for a moment before glancing back at the street and slamming to another stop at a stop sign. I clench my teeth to keep a scream from passing through my lips.

"Jake?" she asks as she starts forward again – at a much more reasonable pace this time. I glance at her to see her chewing on her lip, which means she's deep in thought. She looks over at me, sees me watching her, and her eyebrows pull together. I look away to let her gather her thoughts. After a couple more minutes, she takes another audible breath, and I look back at her.

"So tell me more about her," she says expectantly, and I manage a weak smile at her attempt to make her tone authoritative and big-sisterly.

"Well, you already know her name's Danni," I sigh. I glance at her to see she's waiting for more. I grimace. "She's seventeen," I whisper, and her eyebrows shoot up again, her eyes snapping back to the road when she notices me watching her. I guess I failed to mention that before. "Almost eighteen now," I add, but that doesn't seem to count. Kaitlyn's expression doesn't change.

"I was just... I never _meant _for this to happen..." I trail off, really not wanting to share anymore. Kate seems to sense that, and she nods, putting a temporary end to the conversation.

We drive along in silence for a few more minutes, me trying to calm my frantic heartbeat, her obviously chewing on what I've given her to think about. Finally she sighs.

"I'm confused about something," she states, and despite my nerves jangling around wildly, a wry smile touches my face. She glances at me and takes the expression as permission to continue. "You lived with the Weasleys from the time you were five," she starts, and I nod. "And now you live with your grandmother?" I nod again. She's silent for another thirty seconds before sighing … again.

"I don't get it."

"What don't you get?" I ask, just to annoy her. I barely catch the eye-roll she sends me before continuing.

"Why didn't your mum just leave you with your gran to begin with? The Weasleys aren't … I mean, no offense or anything, but they're not even family," she says, and I know she doesn't mean it in a hurtful way. I nod.

"Mum wasn't exactly speaking to Gran then," I say. "I don't know why," I add when she opens her mouth to ask. "But it's not so bad really," I say with a shrug. I smile sadly. "I go to grow up with my two very best friends."

Something seems to occur to Kaitlyn just then, and she glances at me sharply. "And what did Aria have to say about you becoming a father?" she asks, and I wince. Her expression softens instantly when she sees it.

"She didn't take it so well," I murmur, looking down, only to glance back up as darkness shrouds the car. We're in a parking garage. Panic wells up inside of me again as she looks for a spot to park. She notices and reaches over to touch my arm again.

"Calm," she reminds me, and I take a deep breath. She smiles gently and glides into a parking spot. The car only lurches a little when she stops this time. As she cuts the engine and climbs out, I find myself suddenly unable to move.

"Get out," Kaitlyn commands, opening the door and grabbing my arm. I let her lead me to an elevator. Suddenly remembering the cramped device I rode in when I went to see my mother, I make a face as she leads me inside. She laughs at my expression.

"Don't like elevators?" she asks, and I shake my head at her, not quite feeling up to explaining an entire magical world to her just now to make her understand.

The elevator _dings_ as we come to a smooth stop, and the doors slide open noiselessly. Kate leads me out into a bustling lobby that faintly resembles that of St. Mungo's, but I figure that's just the whole "hospital" thing.

"Excuse me," Kaitlyn says politely to the receptionist, who looks up expectantly at her voice. "Can you possibly tell me which floor the maternity ward is on?" I feel like throwing up my scant breakfast at the word _maternity_. The woman nods.

"Third," she says instantly. "Just follow the signs."

"Thank you," Kaitlyn says with a smile. The receptionist smiles back as we move back to the elevators. I sigh as the doors close behind us. At least there's no one else in here to make it even more cramped.

"Don't like the rain, don't like elevators, next you'll say you don't like puppies and babies," she mutters, and my breath comes in even more rapid gasps as she says that. She bites her lip and looks at me apologetically. "Sorry."

I shake my head at her so she'll know I'm not offended, not quite able to master my vocal chords at the moment. When the elevator lets us out on the third floor, Kaitlyn gently takes my cold and clammy hand, wincing slightly at how chilly it is, and leads me down the corridor, taking seemingly random turns. I finally figure out that she's following signs on the wall, but I'm currently too terrified to care.

A couple minutes later she's leading me through formidable-looking double doors and marching me up to the desk there. She casts me a reassuring smile and opens her mouth to ask the nurse at the desk something – probably about Danni's current whereabouts, but a shout interrupts her.

"Jake!"

We both turn to see Gran hurrying toward us looking immensely relieved. "Oh, there you are," she gasps, coming to a stop beside us. "Thank goodness. Danni's been asking for you." She barely spares a glance at Kaitlyn before grabbing me by the wrist and hauling me off down the corridor. I glance back to see her standing there uncertainly, and jerk my head for her to follow. She shrugs and hurries to catch up with Gran's suddenly breakneck pace.

"Gran," I manage. "This is Kaitlyn – she works with me at the bookstore. She drove me here," I say. Gran glances at her again, then up at me.

"Drove you?" she asks. "Is _that_ what took you so long?" She grumbles something unintelligibly, but otherwise doesn't seem to harbor any ill feelings toward Kate for now.

"Kate, this is my grandmother," I add unnecessarily, and Kaitlyn smiles.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parks," she says politely, and Gran nods at her. I continue to let her drag me down the corridor until finally coming to a halt outside a room. She nods for me to go in, finally releasing her death grip on my wrist. A wave of fresh terror washes over me, and I find myself suddenly incapable of walking forward. Gran gives an irritable sigh and shoves me. I nearly fall on my face, but Kaitlyn grabs my arm and jerks me upright.

"It's okay," she whispers, directing me through the door gently. Gran looks suitably repentant for her rough handling of me, and nods at Kaitlyn approvingly. The latter casts her a smile.

"Jake is that you?"

Danni's voice finally propels me forward. I shake Kaitlyn off and hurry to her side, forgetting all of my fears in an instant at the sound of Danni's own frightened voice.

"I'm here," I assure her. She's lying on the bed in a hospital gown, looking scared and slightly sweaty. I ignore the last part, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "I'm here," I repeat. Her eyes lock on my face as though trying to memorize it.

I look around, finally taking notice of the nurse standing unobtrusively to the side, watching me. She smiles at me comfortingly, but I can't return the sentiment. The fear returns full-force, and I resist the urge to run screaming from the room, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek, a bad habit I picked up from Aria without even realizing it.

All I can think, looking down at Danni lying there, both of us terrified out of our minds, is, _I'm not ready for this._

x.x

Kaitlyn

I settle down on the floor against the wall in the hallway to wait. It suddenly comes to me that I closed down the store without any official permission from Pete. I take out my cell phone and call the store's phone, leaving a message in case he comes by to check on us – not that he ever does, but you never know – explaining the emergency.

I guess I could go back and finish work, but I don't think I'd be able to. This sudden discovery of the _rest_ of Jake's story – or part if it anyway – is something I can't quite tear myself away from. That, and I'm overly curious to see what his baby will look like.

Mrs. Parks, Jake's grandmother, sits down in a chair across from me. Funny how I haven't noticed those before now. She casts a curious look at me now that she has time to pay attention. I smile at her.

"You work with him?" she asks, eyeing me a little suspiciously. I just grin.

"Sure do. He keeps me from dying from boredom, and I annoy him incessantly with my constantly cheerful attitude," I quip, and she smiles again. From inside the room, I hear a familiar chuckle before Danni lets out a pained groan, and the laughter dies instantly. Mrs. Parks glances at the door but makes no move to see what's wrong, so I assume it's nothing to be overly concerned about.

She looks back at me, her head tilted to one side as she scrutinizes me. I just smile, and eventually she smiles back, shaking her head in obvious amusement. "I'm glad he has someone like you around all day. He's much to serious these days," she comments quietly. "You seem like someone who could brighten him up a bit," she adds, and I grin all the more at her.

"I'm just glad I don't have to work with the assistant manager Pete anymore," I say. "So that means I pretty much owe Jake for life," I add with a shrug, and Mrs. Parks laughs. After a few more minutes of quiet, she looks at me curiously again.

"How old are you?" she asks.

"Twenty-three," I reply, and she nods.

"Are you going to school?" she asks, and I can tell she genuinely curious by now. I smile at her again.

"Yeah, when I'm not working," I joke, and she smiles slightly. "I'm studying to become a special needs teacher," I explain. "My six-year-old niece Heather has Down syndrome, and I want to be able to help kids like her," I continue, and I see a touch of approval in Mrs. Parks' face. The part about Heather always gets people, though I'm glad I don't see any pity in Jake's grandmother's face. Heather doesn't need anyone's pity – she's a happy, energetic little girl who can do just about anything normal kids can do; she just takes a little longer to learn things. I hate it when people assume she's not a perfectly happy little kid. _She_ doesn't differentiate between herself and other children.

"That sounds like an honorable career choice," she says a little carefully, and I smile at her. "What kind of work are you doing right now?" she asks, curious again. I shrug and wrinkle my nose.

"I work at the bookstore Monday, Wednesday, and Friday – sometimes on Saturdays, but not usually – and then on Sunday and Thursday I waitress at a restaurant near my flat," I explain, and she nods. "And on _Tuesdays_," I add, smiling now, "I volunteer at Heather's school." I grin at the thought of all the kids there. "They love it when I come visit – especially Heather."

Mrs. Parks smiles again, and I can suddenly see the resemblance between her and Jake. He has her smile and her friendly dark brown eyes that pull up at the corners when she smiles.

Another low moan of pain comes from Danni's room, and I glance at the door worriedly. Mrs. Parks leans around the doorway and peers inside. A second or so later she goes in, leaving me in the hall alone. I sigh and try to find a comfortable position on the floor. We might be here awhile.

.x.

It's the screaming that wakes me up – I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep. I look around dazedly at the sounds of horrible pain issuing from the room across the corridor from me. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am. Finally it all comes back to me: the phone call, the wild drive across town, the running, the questions. I stand up to stretch my cramped muscles, only to nearly topple over again when I put weight on my left leg, which has fallen asleep.

I roll my shoulders to work them loose and crack my neck. I wince now at the screaming. It's quite a bit louder than it was a moment ago. I finally take notice of the door to Danni's room – it's shut. This surprises me for some reason. Worried now, I settle onto Mrs. Parks' vacated chair beside the door to wait … some more. I glance up at the clock and reel with surprise when I see I've been asleep for _six hours_. How did I sleep in that cramped position for _six hours?_ I wonder.

x.x

Jake

"I can't feel my hand," I gasp, but Danni pays me no mind as another wail of pain comes out of her mouth. I grit my teeth as her grip on my hand doubles, but I figure she won't listen even if I say something about it.

"Make it stop," she cries, squeezing her eyes shut and simultaneously squeezing my hand again – when did she get so _strong? _I wince at the pain.

"If you think," Danni pants, glaring up at me now, noticing my expression, "that _that_ hurts," she glares down at our interlinked hands, "you should try-" she stops and lets out another scream of pain. When that passes, she continues. "-having a baby!"

"When the next contraction hits, I want you to push," the nurse says, and Danni groans loudly. Across the bed, the corners of Gran's mouth twitch in a smile, and I glare at her. _She's_ not having the blood cut off to _her_ hand!

A few seconds later another scream rips from Danni. "Push!" the nurse commands, and Danni cries out again. I close my eyes against the onslaught of pain in my left hand.

"Push!" the nurse says again. "That's right! Keep going!" I just keep my eyes closed.

It seems like an eternity later when Danni lets out one final sound of anguish, and then her grip on my fingers relaxes as a new, piercing wail fills the air.

x.x

Kailtyn

I jump up when I hear the unmistakable sound of a baby crying – screaming actually, and quite loudly. I grin at that - must have its mummy's lungs. I start pacing then, suddenly impatient to see Jake's new son or daughter. Does it look like him? I bet it has his eyes. I pace for three more minutes before that gets old, and I sling myself into the chair again to wait.

x.x

Jake

A few minutes later, I stare as the nurse hands the bundle of blankets to Danni, suddenly unable to breathe. "Congratulations," she says, smiling at both of us. "You have a baby girl."

A _girl_. For some reason this fills me with unspeakable joy. I hadn't even thought before now whether I wanted it to be a boy or a girl. It hadn't really occurred to me as something of real import. I feel a grin stretch over my face when Danni looks up at me. She gives me an exhausted smile

I lean over and peer at the pink bundle cautiously. Tucked inside the blankets, her eyes closed tightly against the bright hospital lights, is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. She has a whole head of nearly black hair, and Danni's perfect small, straight nose, which is currently all scrunched up like her eyes. I feel all the air leave my lungs in one great whoosh at the sight of her – _my daughter_. _I have a daughter._

As I stand there, throwing Danni and _our daughter_ into shadow, the baby's eyes crack open just a little, as though testing the brightness of the room. A few seconds later they open all the way, and that precious, perfect, beautiful little girl looks up at the two of us with her unbelievably dark brown eyes - _my _eyes. It takes my breath away – again – to see the trust and love shining in her eyes. A moment later the eyes close again, and she burrows further into Danni's arms. A smile breaks out on Danni's face at this.

"She's perfect," I whisper, kissing Danni's cheek. She looks up at me and smiles lovingly.

"She looks just like you," she says, her tone somewhere between joking and accusing. I smile all the more at that.

"She has your nose," I answer with a soft laugh, kissing the current nose in question. Danni grins and tilts her face up, catching my lips before I can pull away.

"I love you," she whispers. "Even if you did take forever to get here," she adds, grinning as she pulls away. I roll my eyes, still smiling. Then something occurs to me.

"Hold on, there's someone I want you to meet," I say, giving her another quick kiss before going to the door and opening it, hoping Kaitlyn is still here after all this time.

x.x.

Kaitlyn

The door opens, and I look up automatically to see Jake, looking exhausted yet filled with an unmistakable glow, lean his head out into the corridor.

"Come in here," he says softly. "I want you to meet someone." He holds out his hand, and I take it, nervousness suddenly overtaking me. He leads me into the room where Danni is lying on the bed with a little pink – pink for a girl I assume, smiling slightly – ball of blankets in her arms. She looks at me curiously as I follow Jake to her side.

"Danni, this is Kaitlyn," he says, smiling reassuringly. "We work together at the bookstore," he adds, and Danni smiles slightly, obviously still confused. "She gave me a ride here when Gran called." Danni's smile widens.

"Thanks then," she says. I smile back, all nervousness disappearing instantly. I peer at the baby in her arms curiously, and she laughs slightly, a very tired sound, though still pretty. She beckons for me to come closer, and I oblige eagerly.

The baby girl lying there has Jake's mass of dark brown hair and her mummy's nose. She's absolutely gorgeous. I smile at Danni again.

"She's beautiful," I say, and she smiles at me. Despite the obvious exhaustion and the fact that her hair is a mess, I can't help but notice how pretty she is.

"I'd offer to let you hold her, but I think Jake would be mad if I let someone else hold her before he got to," Danni jokes, looking over at Jake now. He moves to her side instantly, looking eager and anxious now. Danni smiles at me at his antics, and I grin back.

Jake takes the little girl into his arms, a look of awe on his face.

x.x

Jake

I take _my daughter_ in my arms carefully, unable to take my eyes off her perfect little face. She's _so beautiful_. She fits perfectly into the crook of my left arm, and I simply stare at her, not wanting to miss one movement she might make. I pay no mind to Kaitlyn sitting at Danni's side, chatting with her quietly, laughing softly every now and then. I simply stare at this beautiful creature in my arms, hardly able to believe I _made_ this tiny person.

"I don't think he's going to give her back," Kaitlyn whispers, and Danni laughs, but I don't care that they're sharing a joke at my expense right now. Nothing else matters to me except for the baby girl lying in my arms.

She shifts slightly, stretching against the blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her face turns into the darkness of my arm, burrowing up against me, and I smile all the more for it. A few moments later she turns her head again and her impossibly beautiful brown eyes peer up at me, alight with love and trust. I can only imagine what she must see in _my_ eyes as I gaze back down at her.

I sense Kaitlyn at my elbow then, obviously unable to curb her curiosity anymore. I glance quickly at her to see her grinning triumphantly.

"She _does_ have your eyes," she says, smiling up at me. "I knew she would," she assures me, and I grin before look back at my gorgeous daughter. Kate moves away and returns to Danni's side. I can see they've already become fast friends, not that I really care right now.

"What are you going to call her?" I hear Kaitlyn whisper, and I finally pry my eyes away from my little girl at this. Danni glances at me questioningly, and I shrug. I sit down on the bed beside her, laying the baby carefully across her lap so her head is on Danni's knees. Danni runs a hand through the thatch of silky black hair on her head, smiling.

We never discussed names to any great length. Danni would sometimes come across something she liked and mention it in passing, but we never thought too seriously about it. Now, looking at the impossibly beautiful angel on Danni's lap, I can't think of anything. Except…

I glance up uncertainly to see both Danni and Kaitlyn watching me. I bite my lip a little nervously, not sure what they'll think. "If you don't like it, that's okay," I start, and Danni gives me a look that tells me to get on with it. "Well… I kind of like the name Summer," I say hesitantly, looking at each of them to see their reaction. Kaitlyn just smiles as ever, but Danni looks thoughtful.

"It's not actually summer yet," she says with a teasing smile, and I smile back, knowing the idea is appealing to her. "It's only April…But it I really like it anyway," she finishes. We all look back down to see two curious brown eyes peering up at us again, and Kaitlyn grins.

"Summer," she says with an air of finality. And just like that, it fits, and I can't think of anything that would fit more perfectly.

x.x

Danni

"What about a middle name?" Kaitlyn asks as Jake takes Summer up into his arms again – I think she's right; I'll never get to hold her again. I smile at that. He's going to be such a great dad.

At Kaitlyn's question however, my smile slips away again. I bite my lip nervously, two halves of an argument battling inside my skull. I've been thinking about it for weeks and I know how much it would mean to him if I suggested it. Except … I know if I _do_ suggest it, there will be no going back. He'll use it. If I suggest it, he _will_ use it. I know he will. It's not as though I can throw it out there, and he'll say no. But, looking at Jake's face as he gazes down at our daughter, I think about how he's always been here for me, how even when he was angry with me he tried to make things right, how he was so willing to listen to any problem I ever had. He more than deserves this. I _owe_ it to him.

"I have an idea," I whisper, and Jake looks up at me expectantly. "For a middle name," I add, and he nods, waiting. I take a deep breath. "I was thinking… I've been thinking about it for awhile actually…" I trail off, and his gaze softens. He smiles gently.

"Just say it," he murmurs. I nod.

"I've been thinking, and… I think _Aria_ would be a pretty middle name," I say, breathing a sigh of relief now that it's over with. He looks at me in surprise, and I notice Kaitlyn watching me curiously.

"You're sure?" he asks seriously, and I hold back a grimace. I know what he's thinking; I can't possibly be in my right mind. I'm naming our daughter after the one woman I could never quite measure up to, simply because he loved her first, loves her more and probably always _will_ love her. But I nod decisively.

"I'm sure," I say forcefully. He holds my gaze for a long moment, and I stare calmly back at him. Finally he dips his head to look down at Summer again. I smile; he can barely keep his eyes off her.

"Summer Aria," he whispers, and despite how my mind is trained to cringe at the name Aria, the sound of our daughter's name on his lips is sweet and beautiful. _Summer melody_. I can't think of a more suitable name.

"I like it," I whisper, and he smiles at me. It surprises me when he leans forward and kisses me in front of Kaitlyn.

"I love it," he whispers. "I love _her_," he adds, and my heart clenches painfully. "And Danni," he murmurs, pulling back slightly and looking down at me with a smile that I've never seen on his face. "I love you."**

* * *

A/N**: There it is, folks. It finally happened. The "L" word. I told you it was going to happen didn't I? So _anyway_, tell me what you think! I know a lot of you have been asking about gender/names for the baby, but I've been unwilling to share thus far; I wanted it to be a surprise!

Babies are just fun aren't they? I love babies. In fact, I'm going to have a baby brother or sister in a couple of weeks! My birthdad and step-mom are having a baby. I'm hoping for a boy personally, because I already have four half-sisters (three from my birthmom and one who is going to be a big sister in just a few short weeks from my birthdad). Fingers crossed for a boy!

Oh, and Heather is actually a real person. My six-year-old half-sister has Down syndrome, and she's a perfectly happy, loving, wonderful person. She's a little spoiled maybe (she's the baby of the family), but still extremely loveable. She's also extra special because she's the only one besides me on my birthmom's side who has blonde hair! Yay for the blondies! Haha. My other two sisters have brown hair, so they're just not as special as us. _–sticks out tongue childishly-_

Okay, I think that's a long enough author's note. No wait, one more note. I've ignored it twice now, and I simply _can't_ anymore. I have a reviewer who has now _three times_ given me _permission_ to use her name in my story. While that's … flattering I guess, I have to say this. _You can't own a name_. And quite frankly, this name is an exceedingly common one. If I _wanted_ it in my story, it would already be in there. As it is, I have no strong desire for a character named this so I probably (almost definitely) _won't_ be using it. Sorry if I sound like a jerk, but if I really wanted to use your name, I already would have because like I already said _you can't own a name_. Sorry for sounding mean. I would have said this in a review reply, but you reviewed anonymously and I didn't want to send you an email. Sorry.

Now I'm done. Please review and try not to think me a horrible person. I feel bad about ragging on you like this, but I can't ignore it anymore. It's exceedingly annoying. Sorry. Really.


	31. News and Visitors

**A/N**: Hey, did any of you notice that I changed the summary? It better fits the plot now. I mean, yes, Jake _is_ rediscovering the meaning of 'family' on his journey and all that junk, but the new summary fits the title _and_ the plot, where the old one just fit the plot. So I like it. One side note. This is in the very first sentence of the chapter below, but I'm going to put it here anyway so there's not confusion. Summer was born on April 30th, a couple of weeks early. Read on!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One: News and Visitors**

Ron

On the morning of May first, I awake to the strangest sound of paper flapping. I open my eyes to see an envelope wagging in my face.

"It's from JAKE!" Henry crows in my ear. I groan and snatch the letter out of his hand, _"accidentally"_ whacking him over the head with it. He just laughs and jumps out of the way.

"What time is it?" I mumble, groping for the clock. Henry saves me the trouble.

"Seven-oh-three," he informs me, and I groan again.

"It's _Saturday_," I remind him. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"There's a _letter_ from _Jake!"_ he exclaims, as if this is self-explanatory.

"Yes, I heard you the first time," I mutter, finally sitting up. I glance over to see Keira's half of the bed empty. I frown.

"Where's your Mum?" I ask, indicating the emptiness. Henry gestures vaguely.

"Making breakfast," he replies. He's quiet for about half a second before giving me an earnest look. "So what's it say?" I grin down at him, unable to keep up the disgruntled front when he looks so eager.

"Surprised you didn't open it yourself," I comment as I pick up the envelope again. Henry jumps up on the bed beside me.

"Mum wouldn't let me," he assures me, and I chuckle at that. I can imagine. Henry is still staring at me expectantly though, so I turn the envelope over and slip my finger under the flap. As I pull the sheet of paper out, something small and square falls to the bed. Henry snatches it up, so I ignore it and start reading.

_Dear Ron, Keira, and Henry,_

_Sorry I haven't written. I could lie and say I've been too busy, but I'd feel bad about it. I dunno. I'm just lazy or something. Or maybe it's just hard, being away, and writing to you is just … hard I guess. Whatever it is that kept me from writing sooner, I'm sorry._

_But I thought you would want to know that Danni gave birth last night to a baby girl. We've named her Summer. And get this; for a middle name, __Danni__ chose 'Aria'. We haven't actually talked about what her surname will be...it actually just occurred to me right now. I suppose we should discuss that, huh? Yeah._

_I'm still trying to find a __real__ job as Gran calls it. I'm working a couple of different temporary things until I find something, but now of course that might be all I can deal with until we figure some other things out._

_So yes. Danni's waking up, so I should go. But I sent a picture of the three of us. Everyone's saying Summer looks like me, but I think she looks more like Danni. We were arguing about it last night, and our friend Kaitlyn got so fed up with it that she's decided that Summer looks like __her__. It was pretty funny. Kaitlyn's good fun – she works with me at the bookstore and she keeps things interesting._

_Danni wanted me to tell you all hi. I should go now, but I just thought you'd all want to know the latest news. Write soon._

_Love,_

_Jake_

Henry's still watching me expectantly. I smile and hand him the letter, and he hands me the little square that had fallen out upon opening the envelope. While he reads, I look down curiously.

The picture is a Muggle photograph of Danni, sitting propped up in a hospital bed looking exhausted, but still smiling. Beside her, half-sitting on the side of the bed is Jake, that same old grin on his face. In his arms – which surprises me a little; I guess I'd expected Danni to be holding her – is a beautiful baby girl, with a head of dark hair. Summer. She _does_ look a lot like Jake. I smile sadly. He has no idea what he's in for.

x.x

Sean

"Sean, there's an owl here for you!"

I go into the kitchen where Kyle is digging through my cupboards fruitlessly for food to find him waving a letter around. I take it from him and look down, surprised to see Jake's scrawling handwriting. I lean back against the counter while the burly Beater continues to search for a snack, and pull the single sheet out of the envelope. As I unfold it, a photo slips out. I catch it before it can fall to the floor and glance down at it.

It's Jake and Danni, and in Jake's arm is a tiny baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket. My breath catches in my throat. Danni had her baby? Already? Setting the picture aside, I start reading.

_Sean-_

_Thought you'd want to know that Danni had the baby last night – a girl, as you can probably tell from the picture. We named her Summer Aria – and it was __Danni's__ idea to use Aria as a middle name. We're still debating about surnames – do we go with Klein or Parks? We were discussing it a little bit ago, but then Summer woke up hungry, so she's feeding her now, and I'm taking the opportunity to write you a letter – I already sent one off to your parents while Danni was asleep._

_Things are going well otherwise. Danni still has a couple months of school left though, so we'll have to figure out how to manage. I'm working two different jobs right now – working at the bookstore still, and then I got a job at a fast food restaurant (the food there is terrible actually, but it pays well enough, so I'm not complaining). With Summer now, it might be awhile before things settle down enough to get a "real" job._

_How's Aria? Still holding up well, I assume? Liking having her own place? (Wish I had my own place, but I don't want to move too far away – especially now – and Danni's not eighteen yet, so she's not legally an adult (by Muggle standards) so it'll be a couple more months.) You must be happy to be back in training for Quidditch – your first match is what, two weeks away? Good luck with that, though I'm sure you'll do great._

_I'm not sure how Danni would feel about this (I haven't discussed it with her, as it just occurred to me), but if you ever wanted to visit, you should feel free. It's so strange being away from everyone like this – I wish we could see you all more, but I'm not sure that would be such a good idea for Aria yet … or for me. I love Danni, but it's still hard…thinking about Aria. Maybe in a few more months…or maybe in a year or so. I don't want to cause any more problems with her. But I would like to see you or Ron … or maybe Keira. You guys are the only family I've ever known; it feels unnatural to be so far away from you all._

_So visit. It's not so far, considering Apparition and the Floo Network. Though I wouldn't really suggest dropping in unannounced. I've learned first hand that it's usually better to let __someone__ know you're coming. I'm going to end this here though; Danni's almost done with Summer, and to be perfectly honest I haven't gotten to hold her at all yet today, and I'm not too keen on the idea of her being passed off to Gran or someone else before me. Write soon. I miss you – I'm sorry I haven't written. Hope all is well. Keep in touch._

_Always,_

_Jake_

I smile at the part about Jake not having gotten to hold Summer yet today. It sounds like he's already really taken with her. I just hope he realizes that a baby is a lot more responsibility than something cute to hold onto until it starts to cry. Poor Jake. I'm happy for him and Danni and everything, but really. He's barely nineteen – she's not even _eighteen_ yet; how can they possibly be ready to be parents? I shake my head and sigh, and Kyle, finally giving up on searching for food, glances up.

"Bad news?" he asks, his forehead dipping in concern. I smile reassuringly.

"No, not really. I suppose, under different circumstances, it would be really good news," I venture, and his eyebrows shoot up curiously. I grimace.

"My best mate is a dad," I say, sliding the photograph toward him. He picks it up and looks at it with interest. I see recognition in his face when glances back up.

"These are the people who came to the pitch that one time, right? When your sister came?" he looks at me a little hesitantly now. We don't talk about Aria too much on the Quidditch team – most of them still remember her as she was all those months ago and assume it's still a touchy subject, which it is. I nod.

"Yeah, that's them," I sigh. He looks back down and shrugs, handing the picture back.

"Cute kid. Say … how … how old is she?" he asks, looking wary again. I wince slightly at him.

"Seventeen. I guess her birthday's in August, but that doesn't make it much better, does it?" I ask, and he grimaces back.

"Tough break. How're they managing that?"

I just shake my head at him. "I don't even know. It's so weird. Jake and I … I mean, we're practically brothers. He's lived with my family since he was just a kid – he's always been there, for almost as long as I can remember. Now he's off with his grandmother, and this Danni girl…He _seems_ happy…"

"You don't think he is?" Kyle asks. For some reason his prying doesn't bother me the way it does with the other people on the team. Kyle is essentially a simple soul. He doesn't get too worked up over anything really, and he's surprisingly easy to talk to. When Al and I talk about Jake, I always feel like I'm acting as some sort of double agent, so we usually _don't_ talk about him. And besides Lecksi, who's curious about _everything_, no one else really brings up stuff like that.

I shrug at Kyle now. "I don't know. Maybe he is. I guess I just kind of always expected him and Aria to end up together," I laugh, and he smiles slightly. Then I sigh again as the truth of what I just said starts to sink in. "They probably would have," I say quietly. "If he hadn't left."

"Well … I mean, I guess I don't know Aria too well, but … she seems to be doing well … with Al," he says hesitantly, obviously nervous about my reaction. After that disastrous time at the Quidditch pitch last fall, some of the substitute players had said some … not-so-kind things about her, and I kind of … freaked out on them. Since then, no one has really dared to bring her up, except to comment that she seemed quite a bit happier when we all went to Greece.

"I think so too," I answer, and I see him relax, obviously relieved I didn't blow up at him or anything. Not that I would. He hasn't said anything hurtful about her.

"So… are you going to go visit them?" he asks, his eyes on the photo in my hand again. I frown thoughtfully. Jake said I could … and they'd still be at the hospital…which is neutral territory as far as I'm concerned. I took at my fellow teammate, pondering.

"We could," I say slowly, and his eyes widen.

"We? As in you and me? I don't even know them," he protests, and I shrug again.

"So what? My friends are your friends. Besides, you think I'd go in there unprotected?" I ask, grinning. He smiles back uncertainly, not quite seeing the humor. "I was kidding," I assure him. "But I wouldn't mind the company."

Kyle sighs, and I know I've got him. I smile at him gratefully, and he mutters darkly under his breath, something about "stupid, sniveling, newbie Chasers" and I have to grin again.

"Can we get some lunch first though?" he asks as I grab my jacket. I laugh. But lunch _does_ sound awfully good…

x.x

Jake

"I don't care, Danni," I sigh for the thousandth time. She gets that stubborn look on her face again.

"Well, neither do I!" she insists, and I groan at her. We've been going back and forth about the Klein versus Parks issue _all morning_. Gran finally got so fed up with it that she left in search of some decent breakfast, taking Danni's mum with her.

"What do _you_ want?" I ask her – again. She throws one hand in the air – she has Summer in the other arm, asleep – in exasperation.

"It doesn't matter to me, Jake, okay? We can call her Summer Parks. Alright? I like that. Summer Aria Parks." She manages the full name without even wincing at the 'Aria' part this time. I find myself feeling the weirdest sense of pride for her.

"Her initials spell 'sap'," I observe, and she smiles.

"It's either that or 'sak'. Either way, I'd say our daughter will someday have at least one friend with an interesting opinion of that." I have to smile back, thinking of my own friends, only to feel a sharp pang of sadness when I remember that I've completely alienated myself from my them.

A soft tap on the door to the hospital room ends our argument. Danni calls for whoever it is to come in, and the door swings open to reveal four people I've never seen before, bearing balloons and brightly colored gift bags. I blink at them as they all start talking at once. When I glance at Danni, she's grinning. This only confuses me even more.

"Who…?" I ask, but I'm cut off by a girl cooing over Summer.

"Oh, she's _adorable!_ Can I hold her? Please?" she begs, looking at Danni pleadingly. Danni looks uncertain. She glances over at me, biting her lip. It's then that the others take notice of me. One of the two blokes nudges the other and mutters something, and both of the girls look from me to Danni to Summer, to each other, and back again.

"This is Jake," Danni announces a little unnecessarily, if the eye rolling is any indication. But the girl who asked to hold Summer smiles, and one of the guys nods in acceptance. The other girl is studying my curiously, while the last member of their little entourage comes forward.

"Here, I don't know where you want these…" he trails off, holding out the bouquet of balloons, which are all various shades of pink and purple, or else silver declaring 'It's a Girl!'. I take them and set them on the little bedside stand holding the telephone. The girl suddenly steps forward and holds out the gifts. I take them uncertainly, not quite sure what to do with them.

"What are they?" Danni asks, solving my problem. I set the gifts on the bed beside her.

"You haven't introduced me to your friends," I murmur to her as she starts pulling tissue paper from one of the bags. She looks up again and seems to flush a little.

"Sorry. Jake, this is Kylie," she says, indicating the first girl, the one with the long brown hair and pleading brown eyes. "Mark," the taller of the two guys, with his arm around the second girl, "Melanie," and "Jason," the one who'd given me the balloons. I nod at each of them in turn, and Mark and Melanie both smile at me a little nervously. Kylie flashes me a genuine smiles before perching at the end of Danni's bed, and Jason walks around to settle himself on my sloppily-made fold-out chair-bed (fortunately, this one's infinitely more comfortable than the last one I had to try sleeping on)

"So can I hold her?" asks Kylie, looking at Summer so longingly that she reminds me suddenly of Sean staring hungrily at Molly's Christmas turkey. The thought disturbs me, and I try to shake it off.

"Um…" Danni looks at me again, and I smile, knowing she's thinking about how possessive I've been of Summer thus far. She looks relieved at my smile. "Sure."

Kylie glances at me with a touch of uncertainty now, and I notice the look that Mark and Melanie exchange. They must all think I'm some sort of control freak now. Great. Danni's friends think I'm a tyrant.

However, Kylie seems to forget all about me when Danni holds out Summer. I feel a flicker of anxiousness as the younger girl takes her and cradles her gently, but I push it away. I'm being stupid. Kylie seems perfectly nice; I shouldn't be getting all worked up.

"So when are you coming back to school?" Melanie asks as Kylie continues to coo at my daughter. I try not to look so overprotective as she bounces Summer slightly to stop her minor fussing.

Danni sighs. "I don't know. I wouldn't go back at all if my mum would let me stay home," she says, looking sadly at the baby. Kylie glances up and smiles.

"I wouldn't want to either, with such an _angel_ waiting for me," she says, saying the last part more to Summer, who seems unimpressed, but that's probably because she hasn't learned how to smile yet.

"How are you feeling?" asks Melanie, looking concerned at Danni's slightly disheveled appearance. Danni shrugs.

"Tired. A little sore. Normal, I guess," she says with a laugh, and Melanie smiles slightly in return. As an outsider looking in this time, I think I see that my first impression that Kylie was the better of the two girl friends to Danni was incorrect. Kylie is here for Summer – she wanted to hold something cute that she could fuss over like a puppy – but Melanie is more concerned with Danni.

As for the boys, I haven't gotten so far as to decide anything about them. I remember Danni talking a little about Mark, maybe. From some class or another; I don't remember which. I rack my brain trying to remember a _Jason_, and come up empty-handed.

Danni has gone back to opening the gifts. I watch her while she pulls out tiny pink outfits for Summer. She makes a big deal out of each of them, exclaiming over them and how adorable they are. They all look the same to me, but what do I know?

Out of the corner of my eye I notice Jason stand up. He stands there, watching Danni open the next present for a moment. Then he starts back around the bed. Danni seems oblivious as he strides over to me, but I can feel Mark and Melanie, and even Kylie watching us, the gift-opening forgotten.

"Hey," I say amiably. He just looks at me, studying me. I wait while he makes his own observations, trying to figure him out. He seems angry for some reason, and I can't tell why.

Finally he makes a somewhat disgusted noise, which I'm sure is meant to be insulting. "She could do better than you," he mutters. I feel something click into place at that. Is he _jealous?_

"Yeah," I agree, and he looks up in surprise. "I don't deserve her," I agree, looking over to see Danni smiling excitedly at whatever was in the bag. She says something to Kylie that I can't hear, and the other girl laughs.

"So why are you still here?" asks Jason, somewhere between protective and petulant. It takes me a moment to realize he feels threatened by me.

"Because I'm not going to leave my daughter without a father, and Danni needs me," I answer, and something like disappointment flits through his expression. "Why did you think I stuck around?" I ask, and the guilty expression on his face isn't nearly as fleeting as the disappointment was. He avoids my gaze for a few seconds before looking up at me rather defiantly.

"You're not the only one who cares about her," he says stubbornly, avoiding my question, and I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I'm glad to hear it," I answer, and I can see the frustration building. He was hoping to get a rise out of me, probably trying to prove I'm some sort of monster, but months of practice tip-toeing around a very emotional Danni have made me calmer and more patient. Plus, this whole thing really is quite amusing.

"She deserves so much better," he growls, obviously trying to regain some dignity. I just shrug at him.

"I've already said she does. What of it?" He scowls, and I can see I'm really upsetting him, so I stop baiting him.

"Hey," I say now, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder as he turns away. He jerks out of my grasp angrily, but I can tell he's listening now. "I'm sorry if you fancy Danni, okay, but I'm not leaving her. I don't want there to be bad blood or anything between us, if you're her friend."

He regards me for another long moment before the defiance and anger leave his eyes. He sighs deeply and looks over at Danni with a sad expression. "I really do care about her," he says softly, almost regretfully. "Take good care of her?" He makes it a question, as though he's not sure I could. I push away the indignity I feel at that.

"I love her," I assure him, and he frowns unhappily. Then he looks at me a little sheepishly.

"Did…did she ever say anything about me?" he asks. I pause, not wanting to disappoint him, and try again to remember. I never paid much attention when she talked about her friends at school, especially not about other guys, but surely she would have mentioned Jason. Why _wouldn't_ she?

_Jason, Jason…_ I try to remember. _C'mon, she HAD to have said _something_ about him!_ And just like that it comes back to me. I grin at my success, and Jason, assuming I'm smiling at him, grins back.

"You're Jase," I say, and he nods eagerly. I remember now. Danni's talked a few times about this mysterious "Jase", and I never paid much attention, except to note that she thought he might have feelings for her that crossed that very fine line between "friendship" and "more than friends."

Jase opens his mouth to say something, still smiling, but he's cut off by Kaitlyn's noisy arrival as she comes in carrying a huge display of balloons and a giant teddy bear. I stare as she struggles through the door.

"Oh, shoot, stupid balloons," she mutters as one gets caught on the doorframe. Mark takes pity on her and takes the bear from her, carrying it awkwardly over to set it on my chair-bed. When he sets it down, I notice the giant red bow tied around its neck. I grin at Kate as she brings me the balloons.

She casts me a rather embarrassed smile when she notices all the other people in the room, but she simply grins and bears it, putting her balloons down beside the ones Jase gave me.

"Hey, Kaitlyn," Danni calls over from the bed. I look over to see Melanie has joined Kylie at Danni's feet, and that Summer has changed hands.

"Kate, this is Jason, Mark, Melanie, and Kylie," I say, pointing to each person in turn. They all nod at her. "This is Kaitlyn; she works with me," I tell them, and she grins and gives a little wave, which brings an amused smile to Mark's face.

"Wow, Jake, you're letting _strangers_ hold your precious Summer?" asks Kaitlyn in mock-horror. "Seriously under par there, Jakey boy," she adds, ruffling my hair. I scowl at her as the others laugh, but I don't mean it, and she can tell. She just laughs and pats my cheek before going over to join Danni's party on the bed. Well, at least now the gang's all here.

x.x

Sean

"Sean! Kyle! Hey, guys!" I look over my shoulder to see Lecksi coming toward us with some guy I've never met in tow, looking torn between annoyance and amusement as he's being dragged over.

"Wow, what are you doing here?" asks Lecksi. "Oh, this is Adam," she says, waving her hand at her companion rather dismissively. "Adam, this is Sean Weasley and Kyle McKeown," she adds.

I think all three of us raise our eyebrows at exactly the same time. Adam is Lecksi's fabled boyfriend – we weren't even sure he existed. And of course Adam is probably just surprised to be meeting some of his girlfriend's teammates – or maybe it's because we're professional Quidditch players. I'm not sure.

"Nice to meet you," I say, recovering first. Adam nods. He smiles then, a bit sheepishly, and rubs the back of his neck.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever get to meet any of Lecksi's teammates," he admits, laughing slightly, and Kyle and I grin at each other.

"Don't feel bad," I assure him. "We weren't even sure you existed." He gives a real laugh then, and when Lecksi seats herself next to Kyle, Adam settles easily across from her, beside me.

"I _told_ you he was real," Lecksi says in the same way a small child would if they'd been trying to prove they'd seen a unicorn or something. I grin at her, and Kyle and Adam both chuckle.

"So how are you two enjoying your day off?" she asks then, and Kyle sighs somewhat dramatically, earning himself a concerned look from our nosiest teammate. Way to go, Kyle.

"Sean's dragging me off to see some friend's of his baby or something," he complains, and I kick him under the table. He winces and casts me a glare, crushing my foot in retaliation.

"Oh, I love babies," Lecksi exclaims, and when I feel Adam stiffen slightly beside me, I have to wonder if this is a sore subject between them. "Which friend?" she asks then, looking over at me, either oblivious to or ignoring her boyfriend's reaction. I grimace.

"Jake." Lecksi's eyes widen.

"Danni had her baby, then?" she asks with an unnecessary amount of excitement. I just nod. "Oh, I love babies," she says again. I sigh, knowing it would only be polite to ask her to go with us now.

"D'you two want to come with us?" I ask reluctantly, and Lecksi's eyes light up.

"Oh, could we? I never actually got to meet Jake, you know, or Danni," she says excitedly, and beside me, Adam has tensed up again.

"I don't know if I want to go," he murmurs, and when Lecksi turns an incredulous glare on him, he continues quickly. "You can though. Go, have fun seeing the baby. I don't think I will though."

"You never do anything I want to," she protests, and I glance at Kyle uncomfortably, not liking where this is going.

"Sure I do, Lecksi. I go to all of your home games."

"That doesn't count," she says quietly, looking down now, suddenly very still and serious, not at all what Kyle and I are used to with her. I shift nervously in my seat, feeling rather frightened by Lecksi right now.

"Lecks, let's not do this; not here. Look, we can do whatever you want to do after you get done at the hospital, okay?" Adam suggests, trying to make up. Lecksi looks up at him defiantly, which is even scarier than the still, quiet woman she'd been before. Lecksi _never_ gets angry. She gets worked up sometimes, like she did with the thing about the uniforms, but I've never seen her truly upset.

"What I want to do is go see Jake and Danni's baby," she tells him, and he sighs quietly.

"And when you're _done-_"

"Why?" she asks. "Why can't you just do this one thing with me just this _once_, Adam? Why do kids frighten you so much?" she asks, sounding hurt now.

"I don't want to have this discussion now, Lecksi. Not _here_, okay?"

"I _do_ want to have this discussion here and now," she counters, angry again. I glance at Kyle to see him watching with wide eyes, obviously as taken aback by this new side (or _sides_) of Lecksi as I am.

"Please, Lecks, don't do this," Adam begs, reaching out to take her hand. She snatches it away, and his face falls. "I'll go, okay?" he says, resigned. Lecksi rolls her eyes and stands up.

"No. You don't want to. Go home. I'll see you for supper if you still _want_ to do that," she snarls, folding her arms across her chest and glaring as Adam unfolds himself from the booth. He tries to reach out to her again, but she steps away. "Don't touch me," she spits. "I haven't forgiven you yet."

Adam looks at her forlornly, obviously distressed by her defiance. "I'll pick you up at six thirty," he says softly, and she nods curtly. He gives her one last sorrowful look before Disapparating.

"Lecksi…" I say uncertainly, standing up. She looks at me – _glares_ at me.

"I don't want to talk about it," she says shortly. "It's none of your business."

I nod and turn back to Kyle. "Are you done eating?" I ask, indicating the remains of his lunch. He takes one last bite of his sandwich before nodding and getting up as well. "Then let's go," I say, taking hold of one of each of their arms and turning on my heel.

x.x

Danni

After standing around uncertainly for nearly twenty minutes after Jase and Kylie leave, Jake finally settles down beside the giant bear Kaitlyn brought. Mark and Melanie stayed when the others left, after Kate promised to give them rides home. They didn't want to go just yet, but Jase had a job to get to, and Kylie had to babysit.

Kaitlyn gets up and moves over to sit beside Jake, and I feel another stab of jealousy. I try to push it away, telling myself that she doesn't feel that way about him; she treats him like a little brother; they're just friends; they're coworkers. None of it works. When she reaches up and tousles his hair, earning Jake's playful scowl, my heart clenches, and I want to jump out of bed and shove her aside.

I don't though. I sit there and watch her talk to Jake, making him smile and laugh, and I try not to feel jealous, but to no avail. Finally my staring seems to bother Kate, as she frowns uncomfortably when she catches my eye, leans forward, and murmurs something in Jake's ear. He glances over at me as well, then gets up and walks over.

"Is someone feeling jealous?" he whispers as I scoot over to make room for him beside me. Melanie barely spares him a cursory glance before going back to talking to Summer. Jake slides his arm around me and kisses the side of my head, and I suddenly feel silly for my jealousy. _He loves me,_ I remind myself, and the warm glow I'd felt when he said it the first time flows through me again.

"Not anymore," I murmur back, snuggling up against his side. He chuckles slightly, and Melanie glances over again, a bit more curiously than before. She tilts her head to one side, studies the two of us for a moment, then smiles.

"You two look so cute together," she says, and I smile. I glance up to see Jake's expression somewhere between a smile and another of his pretend scowls.

"Cute," he mutters. "Great." I laugh, and the smile finally prevails. He leans down and kisses me.

"Well, don't let me interrupt," a distantly familiar voice says. I try to take the voice's advice and continue kissing Jake, but he jerks away instantly at the sound of it.

I look up to see Sean Weasley and two people I don't know standing in the doorway, all three of them looking entirely amused. I feel myself blush, but Jake seems to have forgotten all about our kiss. He jumps up and embraces Sean … _like a brother_, I can't help but think, and I can suddenly see that connection between them, which I'd never noticed before because last January all I could focus on was Ron's questioning of me.

"This is Kyle and Lecksi; they play…" Sean trails off when he sees Melanie and Kaitlyn. "They're on the team with me," he finishes carefully. Jake nods as if he knew this already, and I nod as well, not quite able to find my tongue.

"It's great to see you," Jake says, standing back to let them in the room. Lecksi comes over to the bed and stands behind Melanie to look at Summer.

"She's beautiful," she says softly, glancing up at me with a smile. "Danni, right?" I nod again, still speechless. _Sean? Here?_

I look back over to see Kyle standing there uncertainly while Jake and Sean talk, before he shrugs and goes over to sit between Kaitlyn and the huge teddy bear. Kate strikes up a conversation easily, because she's just like that, and he seems to relax a little.

Lecksi climbs up on the bed beside Melanie as though the two of us are old friends, and Mark shifts uncomfortably as she starts talking. "What's her name?" she asks suddenly, looking at Summer.

"Summer," I murmur, smiling at my daughter. "Her name is Summer."

"Pretty," Lecksi comments. She seems to take notice of Mark then. "Sorry. What are your names?"

Melanie, who seems pretty amused by the chattery Quidditch player, introduces herself and Mark, barely squeezing the words out before Lecksi is off again, talking about some other Mark she knew once who had blue hair and a band. I have to laugh, but she doesn't seem to notice or care. With her around, I can imagine that the Ireland Quidditch practices are never dull.

x.x

Jake

"When I invited you to come visit, I didn't necessarily mean _today_," I tell Sean softly, glancing at Danni, who is completely wrapped up in Lecksi's story now. I'm suddenly grateful to the wiry Keeper's incessant chatter, for keeping Danni distracted.

"I figured the hospital was more neutral ground than your grandmother's house," he replies with a shrug, and I have to admit the truth in that.

"Still… I haven't even told her I invited you yet," I complain, and he shrugs again.

"Oh well. I'm sure she won't mind too much. She seems pretty taken with Lecksi at any rate…" something in his tone makes me glance at him again. He's watching Lecksi uncertainly.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask, and he gives me another sheepish look.

"You always could read me like an open book," he mutters. Then he sighs. "I don't know what's up with Lecksi. I got to meet her phantom boyfriend today, but…" he trails off again.

"Not good enough for her?" I joke, and he shakes his head.

"No, it's not that. They got into an argument right in front of Kyle and me. I've never seen Lecksi like that before. It was weird," he says, frowning. Then he sighs. "Oh well."

"We should get going…" I hear Mark mutter to Melanie. The girl sighs unhappily at the prospect of leaving, but she surrenders Summer to Lecksi's eager arms, hugs Danni, and smiles over at me.

"It was nice meeting you, Jake. Maybe we'll see you again sometime," she says with a shrug. I nod at her and smile. Mark comes right up to me though to say good-bye.

"Take good care of her," he says earnestly in a low voice so the girls won't hear. "She really loves you, you know." He gives a small laugh. "Never shuts up about you. She really needs you now. It was nice to finally meet you. Take care," he says, holding out his hand. I shake it, a little surprised, and he smiles as he steps away.

"Bye," I murmur as he slips an arm around Melanie and walks to the door. They both turn and wave, and Danni waves back, and then they're gone.

"And then there were seven," Kaitlyn says in stage whisper after taking stock of the remaining occupants of the room. I smile at her fondly.

"Sean, Kyle, Lecksi, this is Kaitlyn," I introduce. "She works with me, and she's a good friend," I add, and Kate flashes me a grin, which I can't help but return.

"Kate, this is Sean," I add, and she just raises her eyebrows at me. I sigh. "Sean _Weasley_," I say meaningfully, and the light goes on.

"Oh! _That _Sean! I've heard a lot about you," she says, smiling. Sean turns and gives me a quizzical look.

"Wish I could say the same…" he says uncertainly. Kate laughs at his confusion.

"You'll get used to her," I assure him, and she sticks her tongue out at me.

"If you can get used to Lecksi, then I can get used to Kaitlyn," Sean says with a fond smile at his teammate. Lecksi smiles back with a roll of her eyes.

"Aren't they hilarious?" Kaitlyn says to Lecksi sarcastically. The latter smiles and laughs.

"Amazingly so. You know, I thought Sean by himself was pretty funny, but I realize that together they're just _out of this world hilarious_," Lecksi replies dryly.

"Oh ha, ha," Sean mutters back, but he's grinning.

"You guys are all mad," Kyle mumbles, and Kaitlyn reaches over and ruffles his hair just like she does to me all the time. It's absurdly funny though, watching her pat the head of a huge, burly Quidditch player. I have to laugh when the Beater gives her an incredulous look, and I can feel Sean's silent mirth beside me.

"Parks," Danni says suddenly, and I look over automatically, having been addressed as such for seven years at school by various people. She's looking at me decisively, and I find myself confused.

"What?" I ask, and she smiles.

"I've decided. I've been thinking about it the entire time, and I think her name should be Summer Aria _Parks_." I smile at her, an unreasonable amount of gratitude welling up inside of me at this announcement. I nearly go over and kiss her again, but then Sean starts chortling beside me.

"Her initials spell 'sap'," he laughs, and I sigh.

"You've condemned our child to a life full of 'sap' jokes," I warn Danni, but she shrugs and smiles.

"I don't care. I like it. It's better than 'sak' isn't it? I mean come on. They'll call her Summer the Sacked. What kind of cruelty is _that?" _she jokes.

"She has a point," Sean says seriously. I just grin at them all.

"If you're sure," I say, and she nods.

"Positive. I do go to her and kiss her then, right there in front of Sean and Kaitlyn and two Quidditch players I've never met before. She pulls away flushed, though whether from embarrassment or pleasure, I'm not sure.

"Are you quite finished?" Kaitlyn asks with mock annoyance. "Some of us ate recently and wish to keep our food down," she adds, and Kyle nods his agreement. I roll my eyes at both of them before leaning down to whisper in Danni's ear.

"Have you decided about Sean yet?" I ask, and she stiffens a bit. She shrugs and leans up to whisper back.

"I don't know, Jake. It's a lot to ask of him. You said yourself how much he travels. What about Kaitlyn?"

"Kaitlyn?" I say in surprise, forgetting to whisper. Kate looks over at us curiously, but I wave her away, so she goes back to her conversation with Kyle, only shooting me one questioning look out of the corner of her eye.

"Kaitlyn," Danni says softly, but firmly. "She's a good friend to you, and she's been a good friend to me too. I like her. I trust her." I don't ask her if she doesn't trust Sean – I already know the answer.

"You're sure?" I ask, and she nods.

"Positive. Let's ask her now."

"No. Not with Sean here," I answer firmly. She looks at me in defiance for a moment before seeing reason and nodding.

"Okay. Later. Thank you," she murmurs, reaching up and kissing my cheek gently.

"I love you," I sigh gravely, and she grins, her entire face lighting up. I marvel at how easy it is to make her happy again – and the solution has been within reach all this time, if I had thought to use it.

"Are you two done _now?_" Sean asks jokingly, and Danni smiles at him, a real, honest-to-goodness smile. It seems to take him by surprise for a moment before he recovers. He smiles back.

"We're done," she assures him, joking, and he grins again. Summer starts fussing right then, and I fight the urge to take her back from Lecksi. It could be nothing that Lecksi can't handle; I shouldn't overreact. However, after a few moments, it becomes obvious that Summer doesn't _want_ Lecksi anymore, and I intervene.

"I'll take her," I offer, and she hands my daughter back to me, looking rather relieved. Summer continues to squirm and screw up her little face in unhappiness for a few moments before settling down again, turning against the inside of my arm. She's kicked her blanket all around her, and now one perfect and impossibly tiny little foot is sticking out from the cocoon Danni had had her wrapped up in. As the cold air hits her warm little foot she starts to fuss again.

"Here," Danni says, holding her hands out for her. I give her back reluctantly, and give Danni a look that tells her what I think of this new arrangement. She smiles reassuringly. "I'm just going to show you how to wrap her up," she says with the softest laugh. First she cradles Summer against her shoulder to settle her down. I feel a twinge of jealousy at how easily she calms our daughter, and I'm sure it shows on my face, because Danni laughs again, though not unkindly.

"She's spent nearly nine months listening to my heartbeat, my breathing, and my voice, Jake," she says gently. "It won't take her long to get used to you too."

I just nod and watch. I don't know what Danni was so afraid of all those months. She's a great mum. And with Gran and Ms. Klein helping, she'll be even better with time. She's already better than I am. But I guess she does have the upper hand, having carried Summer around inside of her for nine months … or eight and a half months anyway.

Danni takes the blanket that's been falling off of Summer for the past half hour or so and lays it flat. Summer protests against this by letting out a strange little cry that makes Danni smile slightly, and curls her little legs up against her mummy's chest, seeking warmth. Danni lays her on top of the blanket and wraps it snugly around her again, and when she's all done, Summer is safely tucked away inside her little cocoon once more.

"There you go, Daddy," Danni says with a soft sarcastic edge as I take Summer into my arms again. She looks up at me with big brown eyes, and I smile at her.

"Look who's awake," I whisper to her.

"She's been awake for ten minutes," Kaitlyn says, but I ignore her. I can feel Sean at my side then, looking down at my daughter curiously. I wish Danni had agreed to make him godfather, but she's right. He _does_ travel a lot, and he's a Quidditch player – a rather famous one by now I'm sure. Besides all that, it _is_ a lot to ask of him. I know he'd say yes if I asked, because he's like a brother to me, but I don't think I should. I may not have known Kaitlyn as long, but she's told me hundreds of times how much she loves kids, and Danni trusts her.

"Do you want to hold her?" I ask instead, looking over at him. He smiles slightly uncomfortably.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and I suddenly remember that Sean doesn't even really _like_ little kids. He always tolerated Abby and Henry because he couldn't get rid of them, and he figured if he had to live with them until he was of age, he might as well like them. Of course in time he did come to actually _enjoy_ spending time with them (sometimes), but it was always me who wanted to hold Abby or play with Henry. How could I have forgotten that?

"You don't have to if you don't want to," I say, but I can tell he _does_ want to, even if it makes him uncomfortable.

"Sure I want to," he says, holding his arms out. I set Summer in them carefully, and he holds her close, looking down at her with a strange mixture of awe, curiosity, and terror.

"She looks so much like you," he comments, and I sigh.

"Am I the _only_ one who can see that she looks exactly like _Danni?_" I ask to no one in particular, but Sean shakes his head.

"No, Jake, look. She has Danni's nose, yes. And maybe her chin, but it's hard to tell. But those are _your_ eyes and your dark hair, Jake."

"Hair gets lighter," I say pointedly, but he ignores that. "Or darker," I add thoughtfully. "My mum told me once that I was born with her light brown hair, but it got darker as I got older."

"Will you shut up and let me compliment your daughter?" Sean snaps in good humor, and Danni snorts slightly in laughter. I sit back and let Sean talk, finally feeling content.

.x.

It's a long time before Sean leaves. Lecksi and Kyle both bail long before he does, claiming to have plans – or in Kyle's case, a need for a hot meal and a long night's rest. Gran and Ms. Klein stop in, so we introduce them. Gran smiles warmly at Sean while he talks about his "team", though with Kaitlyn and Ms. Klein here he can't speak freely.

They leave shortly after that though, promising to be back tomorrow to take us home. Sean leaves reluctantly a few minutes later, finally giving Summer back. He gives me a half-hug good-bye, smiles down at Summer again, hugs Danni – she's so shocked that she can't even hug him back before he lets go – waves toward Kaitlyn, and leaves with a promise of visiting again sometime soon, and Danni's blessing to do so.

"So that was Sean," Kaitlyn comments, moving to sit on the end of Danni's bed now. I sit down beside her with Summer, and she reaches over to stroke the baby's super-fine dark hair.

"She's not a puppy," I say lightly, and Kate rolls her eyes, stopping.

"Kaitlyn, there's something we want to ask you," Danni says, getting right to the point. Kate looks surprised, but says nothing, waiting, and Danni looks over at me. I sigh.

"Look, it's a lot to ask, so don't feel bad if you want to say no. And I realize we haven't known each other very long, but-"

"Jake, I'm not marrying you," she says jokingly. "What would Danni think? Let's stay friends." I grin and allow her jibe to lighten the mood.

"Darn. In that case, I guess I'll have to settle for you being Summer's godmother. If you want to," I say, and her eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Really," Danni says with a smile. "From what Jake has said, you've been a good friend, and we both trust you. We couldn't think of anyone better," she says, and when she says it, it sounds like a compliment, not a last choice apology. Kaitlyn smiles.

"Then _of course_. I'd be honored."

"Good. Now get out. It's late, Summer's getting hungry, and I'm tired," I say with a smile to soften the true desire for her to leave now. She grins understandingly.

"When are you coming back to work?" she asks, and I sigh.

"I don't think I'll be missing any," I assure her, and she nods.

"Alright. Have a good night then." She reaches over and gives me a quick hug before ruffling my hair again. I just smile, and she hugs Danni as well. "Sleep tight, little one," she whispers to Summer before leaving. She smiles at us one more time before closing the door behind her.**

* * *

A/N**: Whew! I got it done! And you had all better be grateful – I stayed up all night writing this thing for you so I could get it out before I left for camp. So I expect the reviews to come in thick and juicy, people! None of this one-liner crap now.

Sorry. I'm tired. It's five o'clock in the morning. Please review and forgive my demanding nature.

Oh wait! I nearly forgot! For all of you who haven't heard yet (if you don't read GFHH or my profile), my baby brother Collin was born on June 5th around five thirty in the morning. He has blonde hair and blue eyes and he's absolutely ADORABLE! I've only been down to see him twice, but he's such a sweetie. He likes to snuggle, according to my step-mom, and he's a lot quieter than his big sister Autumn (she's two now, and not too sure about this baby brother of hers) was. Autumn was very demanding – she's kind of a princess, and she acts like it sometimes (she's been like that since birth; the attention always has to be on _her_), but Collin is a calm, quiet, sweet little baby boy and I loves him to pieces! I'll stop now. I shouldn't have even started. I'll ramble on and on for endless paragraphs if I don't stop.

Okay, I'm done. Please review!


	32. Special Dinners

**A/N**: I apologize for the crappiness of this chapter title. I couldn't up with anything better. But it's like four a.m., so give me a break. I mean really. Haha. Sorry for the delay in updating. I've been procrastinating and unwilling. Then today, I was mowing the lawn and listening to my iPod, and a song gave me inspiration to write. Yay for inspirational songs!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Special Dinners**

Jake

When I walk into the bookstore on Wednesday morning, the first thing I see is Kaitlyn sitting behind the counter, looking bored. Her face lights up when she sees me, and I manage the slightest smile back at her. Concern instantly floods her expression, so I try a little harder for that smile.

"You alright?" she asks, following me as usual as I go to hang up my jacket. I shrug.

"Tired," I assure her. She gives me a sympathetic look, which doesn't actually do anything to make me feel better.

"How's Summer?" she asks, smiling again at the thought of her. I smile too.

"Pretty much exactly as she was three days ago when you saw her last," I assure her, and she laughs.

"And Danni? How's she?"

I shrug. "Tired. Sick of school." I sigh. Life will be much easier when Danni gets done with school. For one thing, she'll be able to get more sleep, so she won't be nearly as crabby as she usually is, sleep-deprived and all.

It took nearly two weeks for Danni to convince both her mum and Gran that it would be in everyone's best interest if she moved into Gran's house. Her argument was pretty good actually. I wasn't seeing nearly as much of either Summer or Danni as I would have liked, and Danni wasn't getting as much help with our daughter as _she_ would have liked, and being in the same house gave her someone to help out while she tried to do her school work, and gave me the quality time I wanted. So it was clearly a win-win situation. At least, that was the argument we used. Two weeks later she was in the guest room across the hall.

Still, I have to admit that being awoken every two to three hours really wears on a person after awhile. At one time I considered myself a rather heavy sleeper – Ron used to joke that the world could be coming to an end around us and I still wouldn't wake up – but it's strange how quickly I became attuned to the sound of Summer's fussing. So attuned to it, in fact, that one time I woke up at five in the morning just because she made some small noise as she moved around in her blankets. That was rather annoying really, as it took nearly an hour to fall asleep again, only to have my alarm wake me up fifteen minutes later. That was not a good day.

I yawn and stretch, and Kaitlyn sends me another sympathetic little smile. I just grimace at her, and she reaches up and ruffles my hair. I manage a small laugh at that. Nothing has changed, apparently.

"Hey, Jake?" she asks casually. I look at her expectantly.

"Yeah?"

"I was sort of wondering … well, it's just that …" she pauses, biting her lip, and I nearly laugh. It's _so_ unlike Kate to be at loss for words or to feel awkward about anything. I just wait patiently while she collects herself. She takes a deep breath and turns toward me, her determination returned.

"Look, my birthday is on Friday, and my parents are having this stupid birthday dinner that they're making me go to, and my brothers will be there and everything. Anyway, I told them about you and Danni and Summer, and they want to meet you, so they told me to invite you, and I meant to do it forever ago, so I'm sorry about the short notice, but I was just wondering if maybe the three of you would consider coming?" she asks quickly. When I don't answer right away, she looks worried … and slightly disappointed.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she murmurs, and I instantly feel bad.

"Of course I'll go. I can't speak for Danni, but I'll come, if you really want me to. And I'm sure I can convince Danni to let me bring Summer," I say with a grin, and she smiles back, obviously relieved.

"Really? You'll come?" she asks, and I can't help but smile again.

"Yes. I'll be there."

"Great! I could pick you up if you like – all three of you, I mean, unless Danni doesn't want to go, which I would totally understand if she doesn't, but I'm just saying. I could pick you up. If you want," she says. I think back to the last time I accepted a ride from Kate and grimace, and she slaps my arm, seeing my expression.

"Alright," I sigh gravely. "I guess you can pick us up." She grins, and I allow a smile, shaking my head. "The things I do for you," I mutter, and she slaps me again.

"Shut up. My driving is _fine_." I don't answer. She wouldn't like my reply anyway.

x.x

Aria

"Aria, there you are!"

I turn to see Al shoving his way through the crowd, drinks in hand, a big grin on his face, and I can't help but smile back. He hands me one of the two glasses he's holding, then proceeds to draw me to his side and plant a kiss on my cheek. I smile up at him.

"This place is crazy, huh?" he mutters in my ear, laughing slightly. I nod in reply. It was Lecksi's idea to throw a party after Ireland's latest win this afternoon – 260-120 against Germany. Now the place is absolutely crawling with Quidditch players and fans alike. Sean and his new best friend Kyle are completely surrounded by a gaggle of adoring girls, and they both look perfectly content, to be completely honest.

Al starts pulling me toward the door of the pub the party's in, and a few minutes later we're standing outside in the warm, early-summer evening. He smiles down at me, taking me into his arms again, and I lean against him.

"I can't believe it's almost summer again," I murmur, and he makes a noise of agreement. "Sean's birthday is next week, did you know that?" I ask, smiling slightly.

"No, I didn't," Al says, and when I glance up at him, he gives me a rather wicked smile. "I'd say some sort of party is in order, don't you think?" I grin at him.

"Oh, definitely. Because you know how much Sean just _loves_ surprises," I say sarcastically, and he gives me a soft kiss on the side of the head.

"Sounds like fun," he murmurs, and I laugh.

"Only for you and me," I correct, and he laughs this time as well. "Sean will hate it."

"All the more reason to do it."

We grin at each other for a moment before his expression changes slightly, and he draws me closer. I don't mind it nearly as much as I used to; I enjoy it, even. I let him kiss me gently, allowing myself to get lost in his scent, his embrace, his soft lips. I don't even care that we're standing out in the middle of the sidewalk for all the world to see.

Some random passerby mutters something that sounds an awful lot like "Get a room" as they walk by us, and Al laughs and pulls back, grinning down at me.

"I guess they don't appreciate our crowding the sidewalk so much," he jokes, and I smile up at him, not quite willing to let go of him just yet. He smiles at my reluctance to release my hold on him, giving me another quick kiss before wrapping one arm around my waist again.

"Are you hungry?" he asks suddenly, and I nearly laugh. Men. Always hungry. I roll my eyes.

"Are you?" I counter, and as if on cue his stomach growls. We both laugh at that. "I'll take that as a yes then," I say, and he grins.

"Let's get out of here," he suggests, indicating the pub, which we're already standing outside. I point this out to him and he rolls his eyes. "Do you want to get something to eat?" he asks again, and I smile fondly.

"Sure, Al, why not? I'm sick of this party anyway," I say, and he nods approvingly.

"Me too. Let's go."

"Wait," I say as he starts pulling me down the street. He stops instantly, looking at me expectantly. "I have to say good-bye to Sean first," I remind him, and he sighs somewhat impatiently, but nods in understanding, smiling so I won't take offense.

"Go ahead. I'll wait here."

So I dive back into the crowd, searching for my brother among them. It doesn't take me long to find him and Kyle, still surrounded by adoring fans as they are. Kyle notices me and waves, but Sean doesn't even so much as spare a glance toward me. He's thoroughly engrossed in conversation with some blonde-haired woman who looks several years too old for him.

"Excuse me," I say, pushing my way through the throng of fans as gently as I can, not wanting to cause any tempers to flare up, knowing how unstable fangirls can be. Several shoot me dark looks as I force my way toward the two Quidditch players.

"Hey, wait your turn," one particularly eager brunette snaps, shoving me back when I try to ease around her. I stare at her.

"I just want a word with Sean," I assure her, and she sneers – actually _sneers_ at me!

"So do the rest of us. _Wait your turn,_" she snarls, rudely shoving me aside in an attempt to get closer to Sean. Our exchange seems to have gotten his attention, and he frowns at us. Then he recognizes me, and he smiles.

"Hey, Aria, I didn't take you for the raving fangirl type," he jokes, reaching out and grabbing my arm to pull me the rest of the way to his side. The rude girl gapes at me, and I have to fight hard not to smirk at her.

"Oh you know me," I joke back, grinning up at him. "I can't get enough of you burly Quidditch players." I roll my eyes at him, and he laughs.

"You would have thought one was enough. Now you're after Kyle too, is that it?"

Kyle grins over at us at the sound of his name, briefly looking up from signing some girl's arm in Everlast Ink. "Sorry, Aria, but I don't think Al would approve," he calls over to us. I smile at him. In the last few weeks, I've really grown to like Kyle. Sean's had him over for dinner at Dad's a few times now, and Henry absolutely adores him. He put up a signed poster of him in his room last week, from what I've heard from Keira.

"Darn," I say with mock-disappointment. "And I was so hoping we could go out sometime."

"Well, I could always sign your arse or something," he suggests, and several of the fangirls let out a noise between a squeal and a screech, making us all wince. I laugh nevertheless.

"I'll have to take a rain check. Al and I are going for a bite to eat. I just came to say good-bye to Sean." Kyle just laughs and nods once more before moving on to his next adoring fan.

"You're leaving?" Sean asks with poorly concealed disappointment. "Aren't you having fun?"

"Sure," I assure him with another smile. "But Al is hungry and I'm getting a little claustrophobic in this crowd to be honest. I'll see you later okay?"

He nods, looking slightly upset that I didn't enjoy the party more, but he gives me a sincere smile anyway. "We should get together this weekend or something. Maybe we can have dinner with Mum and Dad or something?" Thoughts of surprise parties flash through my mind, but I just nod.

"Sure, sounds great. I'll talk to you later."

Sean gives me a quick hug, and I hear a number of his fans sigh with jealousy. I nearly laugh at that.

"See you, Aria," he says, squeezing my shoulder. I grin up at him, then stand up on my tip-toes to whisper in his ear.

"I think your fans are a little jealous of all of this undivided attention I'm getting from you." He laughs at that.

"Probably," he mutters back. "But they'll survive. They always do, you know." He chuckles again and gives me one last hug. "Later, little sister," he says a bit more loudly than necessary, more than likely for his admirers' benefit. Looks of understanding brighten up many of their eyes, which pretty much confirms my theory.

"Hey, that's Aria Weasley," someone whispers as I start making my way back to the front door. "Wasn't she like the number one seventeen-year-old Chaser in the country last year?"

Mutterings erupt from the women as I make my way through them, but I ignore them, even after they start calling things out to me. I do have to smile a little though when I recognize the rude brunette watching me with something akin to adoration. I laugh and head outside.

Al smiles as soon as he sees me, and thoughts of fans fly from my mind instantly. I smile back, fighting the urge to laugh again.

"What took you?" he asks conversationally as we start down the road in search of someplace to eat. I do laugh then, and I tell him about my little experience in the limelight at Sean's side. By the end of it he's laughing so hard he can barely breathe. I stare at him. It wasn't _that _funny.

"Sorry," he chokes out. "I was just imagining that poor woman's face when Sean just plucked you out of the center of all those fans and pulled you right up to him and started talking to you like none of them were even there."

I smile. It _was_ pretty amusing. "Oh, and Kyle offered to autograph my arse in Everlast Ink; that was the real highlight," I say casually, and his laughter ends abruptly. I keep my face deadpan as he struggles to gain some control. Finally he just loses it.

"He offered to do _what?!"_ I can't help it anymore. A giggle escapes, and then a full-out laugh, and then I can't quite stop. Sean's good mood must have been infectious or something.

"It was a joke, Al, relax," I assure him, squeezing his hand. He glares at me.

"Not funny," he mutters sullenly, but I just grin.

"It was hilarious and you know it," I say, and he mumbles something under his breath, but shoots me a grin to let me know all is forgiven.

We fall into a comfortable silence as we walk for another block or so before finding a somewhat respectable-looking little café. We go inside and sit down, and a minute or so later a waitress appears with menus in hand.

"Can I ask you something?" asks Al uncertainly. I look up at him curiously, alerted by the sudden change in his tone.

"Sure," I say agreeably, and he bites his lip hesitantly, looking anywhere but at me. I wait patiently, glancing back down at my menu to give him time to think. After nearly three minutes of uncomfortable quiet, he speaks up again.

"It's about Jake," he says in an apologetic tone, and I feel myself tense reflexively. He notices instantly. "Never mind," he mutters.

"No, ask me," I say, looking up. "It doesn't bother me, honestly." That's not completely true of course, but he looks relieved nonetheless, and he continues.

"Have you spoken to him at all since the last time you saw him?" he asks, and I frown.

"No, not at all, why?" I ask suspiciously. He frowns thoughtfully.

"Can I ask something else?" he asks now, and I nod. He sighs slightly before continuing. "Do you wish that he was still in touch?" _Where is this coming from?_ I wonder, but I just shrug at him in reply.

"I dunno," I say, looking down again. "Honestly," I add, looking up again. "I don't know. Maybe? But then, maybe not. It might be too hard… hearing from him, knowing exactly what was going on with him. Maybe it's better this way, but…" I trail off, not wanting to hurt him.

"You still miss him?" he guesses, and I grimace.

"He was my best friend," I whisper. "He's always been there, Al."

"That's not what I meant," he sighs, and I wince again.

"I know," I say softly, tracing the wood grains on the table with my eyes so I won't have to look at him. I sigh too and force myself to meet his gaze. "Yeah, I miss him," I say quietly, and we grimace in unison this time.

"If you had the choice between never hearing from or seeing him again _ever_ or hearing from him regularly – say, once a week – and seeing him every now and then _with_ Danni, what would you honestly choose?" he asks. Again I wonder what's bringing this on. I stare at him for a moment before answering.

"I'm not sure," I answer at last, and his expression tells me that's not quite what he was looking for. "I mean …" I sigh as I try to gather my thoughts. "I'd like to be able to be friends with him again … later on. I don't think I could live with _never_ seeing him again. But … it would hurt, hearing from him all the time, knowing that life's going on for both of us. I just dunno. I'm glad I don't have to make that choice," I say with a shrug. He nods, looking thoughtful again. I finally just have to ask.

"Why?"

"Why what?" he asks immediately, and I refrain from rolling my eyes. Men and their short attention spans.

"What brought about the inquisition?" I ask, and he finally meets my eyes.

"I was just curious," he says, too innocent. I let it drop though, as at that moment our waitress returns to take our order, and by now I really am hungry.

x.x

Jake

Friday comes too quickly, and by five o'clock, I find myself nervous to meet Kaitlyn's family. It's one thing to know Kate, who is accepting and open and extremely friendly. It's quite another to meet her _entire_ family. I've heard enough about them in the last few months that I _feel_ as though I know them all very well – almost too well, in fact – but actually meeting them … I'm finding myself worrying about what her brothers will think of me, already a dad at nineteen, and not even married to the mother of my daughter.

Danni was gracious enough to agree to come with me. She really likes Kaitlyn – the two of them have gotten to be extremely good friends in the last three weeks. Kate drops by a lot though, to see Summer and to catch up on things. We still haven't told her about the possibility of her goddaughter being a witch; we've been waiting for just the right moment, but it hasn't cropped up yet.

"What time is she supposed to be here?" Danni asks now, fussing with Summer's impossibly tiny and adorable little jacket that Gran bought her last week. I shrug.

"She said sometime before five fifteen, just calm down, Danni," I say with a laugh, and she shoots me an annoyed smile. Just then, as if on cue, the doorbell rings. Summer jumps at the noise, looking around wildly for a moment, and I laugh again, earning myself a reproachful glare from Danni for laughing at our daughter as she goes to answer the door.

"Hey!" Kaitlyn exclaims as soon as she sees her. The two of them exchange hugs and start chattering at each other while I gather Summer's necessities. Then, Summer's car-seat in one hand, her bag in the other, I smile over at Gran in farewell. She just shakes her head at me.

"That look suits you," she says with a teasing smile, and I grin.

"And that apron goes very nicely with that blouse," I counter, indicating the absolutely hideous floral apron that she's fond of wearing just to annoy me whenever she's cooking. She gives me a playful scowl.

"Now, it's not nice to be teasing your poor, dear old grandmother," she says, shaking her wooden spoon at me. Some sauce flies off the end and hits the back of one of the chairs at the table. She stares at the splatter mark hard for a moment before bursting out laughing.

"Good aim," I comment, and she waves me away dismissively, casting me a fond glare as she goes to find a towel to wipe up her mess.

"Have a good time," she says. "You should get going now."

So we say our good-byes to Gran and load into Kaitlyn's sleek, silver car. Danni does all her usual buckling and such to get Summer's seat in place, and a moment later we're cruising down the road at a much more reasonable pace than the last time I accepted a ride from my favorite coworker.

The car is mostly quiet during the ride across town. Danni and Kate exchange some mindless prattling that I don't pay any attention to while I stare out the window. Spring is in full swing now, trees budding with leaves and flowers just staring to poke their heads out of the ground after the cold winter. Something suddenly occurs to me.

"What's the date today?" I ask, interrupting Kaitlyn's comment about Summer's jacket. She fakes a wounded look at me.

"That hurts, Jake," she says, not quite managing a straight face. "It's May fifteenth of course."

_Sean's birthday is next week,_ I think, but I say nothing, nodding at her before going back to staring at the houses flashing past as we drive only slightly too fast down a residential street. A few minutes later we pull up in front of a small, yet very stylish and expensive-looking brown-and-brick house. There are already three cars crowding the driveway in front of the garage, so Kate parks along the side of the street.

Just as she's switching off the engine, the front door opens and two identical little girls come flying down the front walk, huge grins on their faces. As soon as Kaitlyn gets out of the car they're on her, their arms wrapped tightly around her waist, each exclaiming at her, trying to drown out the other. Kate just laughs.

"-and Mum said, not until you got here, but-"

"-and I wanted to have a cookie, I really, really wanted one, but Daddy said-"

"-and Kaden knocked down Autumn and then wouldn't say sorry, so Grandma-"

"-but Cassie said that Heather kicked her, but Heather said she didn't, and so Auntie Jenna had to-"

"Enough!" Kate says loudly, still laughing, and the girls fall silent, staring up at her expectantly. The one closest to me suddenly takes notice of Danni standing there with Summer, and curiosity instantly lights up her face.

"What a cute baby!" she exclaims, coming closer to look. She peers over Danni's arm eagerly, and I smile at her enthusiasm. "What's her name?" she asks.

"Summer," Danni replies with a bemused smile at me. I shrug back.

"Summer, that's a cute name. I love summer; it's my favorite season you know, but that's only because we don't have school. I don't really like it that it gets so hot sometimes, you know? I like spring better, because that's when the flowers are blooming and baby animals are being born. When was Summer born?" She says this all very fast, and I blink in surprise, but Danni doesn't even skip a beat.

"April thirtieth," she answers, and the girl nods thoughtfully.

"I have a friend who has that same birthday," she comments. "Her name is Kylie, and she has a sister named Mandy, but Mandy's birthday isn't in April, it's in December. Mandy's five, but she sometimes pretends that she's older, which is kind of annoying because _everyone_ knows that she's only five, and-"

"Courtney, that's enough," Kaitlyn says gently, and the girl falls silent again, not looking the slightest bit abashed. I smile at the little girl though – she reminds me a lot of a certain bookstore clerk that I happen to know.

The other girl – obviously her twin, as she's perfectly identical to Courtney – is much more reserved as we make our way back up to the house. I remember after a moment of searching my memory that her name is Julia. She peeks up at me now and then, casting me shy smiles, but she always looks away as soon as I smile back. Courtney keeps up a thoroughly one-sided conversation with Danni the whole way to the front door, much to Kaitlyn's amusement and mine.

The door opens before we reach it, and the man standing there grins when he sees Kate. It surprises me how much he looks like her – they have the same eyes, the same smile, the same nose, the same … everything about their faces is the same, right down to their eyelashes, although of course Kaitlyn's face is distinctly feminine where the man's is … obviously not.

"You must be Jake," he says to me next, and I look at him in surprise. As I shake his hand, I try to figure out which one of Kate's three brothers this is. I decide it has to be her twin – they look _so_ much alike – though for the life of me I can't remember his name.

"Kory," he says with a small smile, and I grin, everything coming back with surprising clarity.

"Right," I say, and he can see the recognition in my eyes now, I'm sure. He grins as he releases my hand, and turns to Danni.

"And you," he says, taking her hand gently with a very kind smile, "must be Danni. I've heard so much about both of you. Although really, most of it's about Summer there," he says, smiling down at the baby girl in question.

"I've heard a lot about you as well," Danni says politely, which I'm sure is true. Kate talks about her brothers _a lot_.

"Well, come in then. No sense standing outside all day," he says, and Courtney squeezes past him immediately, disappearing before her twin can so much as blink. Kaitlyn rolls her eyes fondly at her niece's retreating back.

As soon as we enter the door we're assaulted by a whole gang of little kids coming to greet "Auntie Kaitlyn!" I have to grin as she hugs each one in turn. The littlest one – Autumn, I remember – who looks to be about two, latches onto her leg, grinning when Kaitlyn starts moving again, taking her with her.

"You're silly," Kate says fondly, smoothing the girl's hair lovingly. She reaches down and picks the toddler up, but Autumn wriggles around until she puts her down again, and a few seconds later she disappears in pursuit of one of her cousins … or her sister, I can't be sure.

"Come on, you can put your coats in the bedroom," Kaitlyn is saying to Danni and me now, leading us down the hallway. It's like an obstacle course; we have to step over and around all manner of children's toys as well as the children themselves as they shoot past unexpectedly, laughing and chasing each other. I blink as Courtney runs by with a little boy who can't be older than three running after her as fast as his stout little legs will carry him. I have to laugh at the sight.

We put our jackets and Summer's things down on the bed among too many other coats to count. Danni lifts Summer out of her carrier and hands her to me with a knowing smile. I grin back; I would hold Summer all day if I could. Danni knows that all too well, if her expression now is any indication. She exchanges a fond look with Kaitlyn, who starts leading us back toward the main house, pointing out rooms as she goes.

"Scott's old bedroom – it's a playroom now, bathroom, laundry, closet," she points as we pass them. "Study," she points as we pass a room with what I recognize as a Muggle computer, where Julia is sitting playing a game of some sort while her cousins and/or younger siblings play on the floor or look over her shoulder.

"Here's the family room," she says, and Kory waves at us from a sofa where he's sitting with a woman by his side, a baby in her arms. Kaitlyn starts over to them – no easy feat, considering all the toys and children littered about – so with a shrug, Danni and I follow.

"Jake, Danni, this is my wife Lysa and our son, Collin," Kory introduces, and Danni immediately gravitates toward Lysa and her baby. I have to smile at that. "Lys, this is Jake and Danni, which I'm sure you got by now, and of course little Summer," he finishes, and Lysa smiles up at Danni. Not a moment later they're friends, deep in conversation and laughing.

I settle into an armchair nearby, and Kaitlyn perches easily on the arm of it, carrying on conversation with Lysa and Danni while shooting covetous looks at Collin and Summer. It suddenly occurs to me that Kate is the only one out of her siblings not yet married with at least one child. I imagine that must be tough for her, if the way she's looking at my daughter is a clue. That's kind of sad, really, especially considering how good she is with children.

Kory asks me a few questions about Summer, which I happily answer, but soon the topic switches to sports. Muggle sports to be specific, of which I have little to no knowledge of at all. He seems shocked at my lack of enthusiasm for football, which Danni overhears of course. She laughs and makes up a story on the spot about growing up in a home without a television – which of course is perfectly true, but is obviously a very big deal to these Muggles – and how my "parents" believed in reading as entertainment.

Kate's two remaining brothers both make appearances and more introductions are made. Her eldest brother, Scott, is very tall and muscular – like Ron, only bulkier – and quiet, thoughtful. His wife Rachel is a contrast – like Danni and Kaitlyn, she's very amiable and friendly, and she coos over Summer for awhile before moving onto Collin. Seeing the two of them in such sharp contrast to one another at least explains the difference between their twin daughters anyway.

Tony the Middle Child, as he introduces himself, is very easy-going. He seems to be a perfect balance between strong-and-silent Scott and chattery, over-friendly Kaitlyn. He grins over at me after introductions are made, coming over to get a better look at Summer.

"I'd introduce you to my wife Jenna, but she's currently missing in action," he apologizes with a rueful smile, squatting down to see my daughter. "I think the little kids kidnapped her, to be honest," he adds, and I have to laugh.

"Looks just like you," he comments, smiling at me after studying Summer for awhile. She stares at him with wide brown eyes, and he chuckles at her. "Cute kid."

x.x

Danni

About an hour after we arrive, we finally start getting ready for supper, a bit early, though Kaitlyn assures me that by the time all the children are rounded up and washed, and the food ready to eat, it will be well past supper time. I feed Summer, and not ten minutes later she's out cold, fast asleep. She'll probably sleep for two or three hours now, maybe longer. I think having so many little kids come up and beg to hold her, and then having Jake sit each one on his lap and carefully putting Summer in their arms – I think it all wore her out. She didn't even put up a fight when I laid her back in her seat to sleep.

Dinner is wonderful, and extremely noisy. Miraculously, nothing is spilled, save for some peas that were purposely dumped on the ground by little Autumn who refused to eat them. Jake seems perfectly at home with all the noise of children around. I keep forgetting that's he's completely used to this sort of thing, what with all the Weasley family members at holidays each year. He even seems to _enjoy_ the chaos. I can't quite seem to feel as much as home. I'm not nearly as comfortable with children as Jake is, having never done much babysitting, and not having any younger siblings.

It shows too, our differences in experience with kids. They all took to Jake instantly of course, all of them fighting over who got to sit next to him, only to be turned out by Kaitlyn, laughing as she claimed the seat for herself. I catch several significant looks being passed between Kate's parents and brothers, and I wonder if they somehow think that she has feelings for Jake that aren't quite platonic, which _I_ know she doesn't. I've seen how she acts toward him – she treats him like a favorite little brother or something.

Supper passes relatively smoothly, and after getting all the dirty dishes back to the kitchen and the leftovers put away, we all gather in the family room again, where a pile of presents has appeared – as if by magic, I think with a wry smile – on the coffee table.

Jake adds his own contribution to the pile just as Kaitlyn comes in. She grins at the stack of gifts and sits down on the floor in front of it.

"This is totally unnecessary," she assures us all, only to receive a chorus of people telling her to open them already. Jake settles down on the floor at my feet, and I smile when one of Tony's little girls – Cassie, I think – crawls into his lap. Courtney sits down at his side, leaning on his knee, practically on top of him, and he turns and shoots me a grin. I smile back, glad to see how at ease he is with all the little kids around. It's nice that he feels so at home here. I know how he missed all of the chaos of what he considered his normal Christmas last year.

Kaitlyn opens her presents too quickly for me to catch everything she receives. I spot some books and some clothes. Jake got her a bracelet with tiny, multi-colored shells dangling off of it that clink together whenever she moves her wrist, but other than that I can't quite see what else she got.

The children each spend a few minutes examining her gifts and exchanging various degrees of approval over them. The girls all study her bracelet carefully, exclaiming over it and how pretty it is. I do notice however that Cassie doesn't move from her position in Jake's lap – I think she's afraid she'll lose the coveted spot if she gets up.

We spend nearly another hour there after opening gifts before the kids start getting cranky and sleepy. The first ones to take off are Tony and Jenna with their three very tired little girls. Autumn starts crying as they get ready to leave, which of course starts Cassie crying as well, and before long all three of them are sobbing. Cassie refuses to let go of Jake's pant leg; Autumn is clinging to her grandmother; and Emma, the oldest, is just sitting there crying with one shoe on, one sitting beside her.

Tony shakes his head at us and scoops Emma up. She wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face in his shoulder, while his wife Jenna wrestles Autumn away from Kate's mum. Jake picks up poor little Cassie and offers to carry her to the car for them. Tony agrees gratefully, and the three of them troop outside.

A few minutes later we're saying our own good-byes and thanking Kaitlyn's parents for supper. Courtney runs forward to hug Jake good-bye, and she whispers a farewell to still-sleeping Summer, kissing her sweetly on the forehead before running off again.

Kaitlyn drives us home in near silence. When she pulls up in front of the house, she turns and smiles at me.

"Thanks for coming. They all really wanted to meet you both, so I'm glad you came. See you Monday, Jake. See you around, Danni."

We get out and wave as she pulls away from the curb. A moment later she disappears around the corner down the street.

"Well, that was … interesting," I murmur as we start toward the house. Jake grins.

"Felt like home," he comments, and I smile at him.

"I'm glad you had fun," I say truthfully. He smiles at me, stopping suddenly and wrapping his arms around my waist. I hold Summer's carrier away from me awkwardly so it won't bump against his leg.

"I love you," he says unexpectedly, and those simple words send a thrill all the way through me. I hug him with my free arm, and he kisses my forehead. He hugs me again and kisses me on the lips this time.

"What was that for?" I ask, smiling as he pulls back. He grins and kisses me again, quickly, before starting back up the walk.

"Just for coming with me tonight. It wouldn't have been the same without you, so I'm glad you came," he says simply. I let it go, knowing it runs deeper than that, but sensing he doesn't quite want to spoil the moment by dragging up old memories.

"Well, you're welcome then," I say as we head inside. He smiles at me again, that gorgeous, love-filled smile that he only rarely graces me with, but I've been getting more and more as of late. I love that smile. Carefully, I set the car-seat down on the floor and go over and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him. He lifts my chin up and kisses me again.

"If this is how you act whenever we go see Kaitlyn's family, we might have to make it a more common affair," I comment, and he just chuckles, pulling me closer.

"I love you so much," he murmurs into my hair, kissing my jaw and sending another shiver down my spine. Does he have any idea what he does to me? I doubt it, or he probably wouldn't do it.

"And I'm so glad," I whisper back, pulling his head down for one more kiss.**

* * *

A/N**: You should be proud of me. I wrote this in one day. Or night… since it's like almost four in the morning now. Yeah… Haha!

Anyway, I hope you liked this little random filler chapter. I thought we needed some light-heartedness. I apologize again for the wait. I'll _really_ try to get as much done as possible before I leave _again_ for _another_ camp in a week and a half, I really will.

Good chapter, no? I managed to fit _all _of my half-siblings' names in there! Yay for that! Okay I'm done now. Please review!!


	33. At Least There's That

**A/N**: Alright. I took another long hiatus from this. Procrastination. And, as you'll see by the end, not a chapter I really wanted to write. I've been putting it off for_ever_. The plot has changed dramatically since I first started planning this story, so even I wasn't completely sure what was happening in this chapter until I wrote it. I apologize ahead of time if it makes you cry. It's important to the plot (especially if there's to be a fourth story) and it's a lot better than what could have happened if the plot hadn't developed the way it did (which is to say, it's a lot better than what I originally had planned for this chapter).

On the plus side, you finally find out that Ms. Klein and Mrs. Parks _do_ in fact have first names! (Yeah, so I totally made them up on the spot.) I apologize if I gave Ms. Klein a name earlier in the story and forgot it. If I did, please remind me so I can fix it. Thanks.

Anyway, I won't say 'please enjoy' because it wasn't an enjoyable chapter to write. But please review. Sorry if you don't like it. I hated writing it. Important chapter though. Now I'm just repeating myself. Read on.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Three: At Least There's That**

Jake

The farther into the summer we get, the harder it seems to be for me to keefp my focus on what's happening around me. I'll sit down and find myself thinking almost obsessively of what I was doing this time last year, and when I finally take the time to look around, minutes or even hours have passed.

I know it worries Gran and annoys Danni to no end, but I can't exactly help it. It can be the littlest thing – like the way Danni laughs at something I said that wasn't meant to be funny – and it'll remind me of something Aria used to do, and then it all just snowballs.

The only thing – or in this case, person – that helps is Summer. She spends half her time just lying on a quilt in the living room gurgling and giggling at Danni, and the rest of it sleeping. And she sleeps almost all the way through the night now, which is a definite plus.

"Jake?"

I look up to see Danni staring at me again, that half annoyed, half concerned look on her face. Something between guilt and irritation sweeps through me, but I shove it away. She holds Summer out to me, and I take her out of reflex. Danni stands there scrutinizing my face for a minute before speaking again.

"Kate's coming over soon," she says carefully, still studying me as though afraid I'll explode or something. "I'm going to go change."

I nod at her, pulling Summer closer. She's asleep again. Danni pauses on the way out of the room and looks back at me. She sighs and walks back to stand in front of me again.

"Jake."

"What?" I ask, getting annoyed. She gives me this ultra concerned look, and I have to clench my teeth to keep from snapping at her. Does she think I'm _suicidal_ or something?

"I'm _worried_ about you! All you do is mope around all day, and even when you're holding _Summer_ you can barely manage a smile! I miss you, Jake," she says, her voice breaking slightly. I stare at her. I had no idea she felt so strongly about my little episodes of zoning out.

"I'm fine," I say at last, and it sounds lame to my own ears. I wince when she gives me an exasperated look.

"You're thinking about her _all _the time, Jake! Don't think I haven't noticed! I know you feel guilty for what happened last summer and everything, but this is ridiculous. I'm sure _she's_ not sitting around moping over you! She has a boyfriend, doesn't she?"

I shrug, feeling a little sulky. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Yes, so you should stop feeling so guilty. She's not unhappy. You shouldn't be either," she says, much more gently now. I know she's right. Sean's letters all have at least one sentence (usually more) about Aria and Al's relationship. I still haven't found the happy medium between insanely jealous, 'he's-not-good-enough-for her' feelings and intense relief that she's not miserable.

Danni leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my cheek, smiles apologetically, and disappears upstairs to change out of her sweatpants. I look down at my daughter sleeping peacefully in my arms, and I can't resist a smile. She's so beautiful. It never fails to amaze me how absolutely perfect she is with her long, dark eyelashes resting against flawless rosy cheeks.

"I love you so much," I whisper, hugging her close. She murmurs in her sleep and turns her head to the inside of my arm.

"Aw, I love you too, Jake!"

I jump and look around to see Kaitlyn leaning against the wall in the doorway, grinning at me. I scowl at her playfully and she practically skips to my side and sits down beside me on the sofa, leaning over my arm to smile at Summer.

"Can I hold her?"

"Like you have to ask," I mutter and she grins before taking her out of my arms.

"So, what are you two up to today?" I ask after a moment or two of silence. Kate casts me a sidelong glance, and the concern in her expression doesn't escape my notice.

"Did-didn't Danni tell you?" she asks carefully, quickly averting her eyes when she meets my gaze. I look away too, embarrassed suddenly. Danni probably _did_ tell me, and I most likely wasn't listening.

"Probably," I mumble, staring at the floor. I feel her hand on my arm a second later, so I look back over at her. I see something like pity in her eyes and feel a surge of resentment toward her. I pull my arm away angrily.

"So I wasn't listening; big deal," I mutter.

"You're not listening an awful lot lately," she murmurs, and I feel instantly guilty about how much I've ignored her the last few weeks at work.

"I'm sorry," I sigh, finally looking at her again. She's still staring at me with that overly concerned expression, and I try not to let it get to me.

"Look… I know it's hard... I mean, I guess I can't really empathize with you on this one, having never fallen in love with two different people at the same time … or, well, with anyone at all really, but, Jake… You have a really good thing going for you here. You have a family that loves you and, well, an almost decent job-" she breaks of and laughs slightly, and I can't keep a smile from turning up the corners of my mouth at the idea of the bookstore being a "decent" job for the rest of my life.

"-but the shop aside, you have a good life right now. I would hate to see something like this ruin it for you," she finishes, reaching out and squeezing my arm. I sigh again. I know she's right. Of course she's right. Kaitlyn _always_ seems to be right these days.

"We're going shopping by the way. For Danni's mum's birthday. You can come if you want to," she adds, raising one eyebrow at me as though already expecting my answer. I smile wryly.

"No thanks, Kate. I really think Summer needs her rest and all that. Besides, I have a horrible headache, and I think I might have some sort of stomach bug, and-"

"I get it," she interrupts, laughing. "You could have just said no."

"That would be rude," I retort, and she rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to reply – most likely to tell me exactly what _is_ rude – but Danni's return intervenes. Kate jumps up instantly and hugs her.

"We should get going," Danni says, smiling at Kaitlyn's always-present enthusiasm. I stand and take Summer back, following them out to the front hall. Kate hugs me, smiles sympathetically, and practically skips out the door to her waiting car. I roll my eyes after her fondly.

"When are you coming back?" I ask, suddenly wishing she would stay. I can't explain the sudden, awful feeling I have, and I wonder vaguely if I _am_ coming down with some sort of flu. Danni smiles at the palpable worry in my voice.

"We should be home sometime around supper. Don't worry, Jake, you'll be fine. What's easier than babysitting a two-month-old baby who does nothing but sleep and eat all day? She's an angel, Jake, you know that," she says, smoothing out Summer's dark, wispy curls that never seem to lay just the way she'd like them to.

"Maybe… maybe you should go another time," I say, and the awful feeling strengthens somewhat. "I really don't feel very well, and I just think-"

"Jake, really," Danni says, laughing at how absurd she thinks I'm being. I bite my lip, knowing any other excuses would get the exact same results.

"I just … I'll miss you," I say, going for something believable. She smiles.

"You're sweet, Jake, but I think you'll live for a couple hours without me. Really."

"It might rain," I say at one last attempt to convince her. She snorts and holds out her hands as if to say 'so what?'

"When is it _not_ raining?" she asks, and I know I've lost. I frown unhappily, and she reaches up and lays one hand against my cheek. "I'll be back soon. What's the real problem here?"

"Nothing," I lie, turning my face into her hand and kissing her palm. She smiles and leans up to give me a real kiss.

"I should go," she says at last, pulling away, laughing. "Kaitlyn will wonder what's happened to me. Love you. Bye, sweetheart," she adds, kissing Summer. "I'll be home soon."

"Love you, too."

As she walks off to join Kate, the ominous feeling deep in the pit of my stomach makes me want to run after her and drag her back. I shake myself slightly, annoyed with my silly behavior. I'm being stupid. Danni can take perfectly good care of herself. I shouldn't be so paranoid.

.x.

"_Where is she?"_ I hiss for the thousandth time, pacing across the living room again. Gran looks up at me worriedly, for the thousandth time, but says nothing. She learned about fifty circuits of the house ago that I'm not actually asking for her opinion.

"She should have been back hours ago," I say again. "Or she should have at least called if she was going to be this late!" I glare up at the clock which seems to have suddenly sped up after moving sluggishly all afternoon.

"Jake, it's only seven o'clock. Maybe they decided to go out for supper," Gran tries, but I ignore her. Danni said she'd be _home_ for supper. She would have called if she was going to be late.

I take another round of the sitting room, front hall, dining room, and kitchen, unable to sit still even for a moment, angry and worried and upset, and completely unsure of which emotion should be most important at the moment.

"Jake, please, just sit down. I'm sure she'll be home any minu-" She's cut off by the phone ringing. I practically run into the kitchen and snatch it up.

"Hello?"

"…Jake?"

"Kaitlyn! Where are you? You should have been home _hours-_"

"Jake, I need to tell you something." The sudden catch in her voice is what makes me stop pacing. I stand stock still in the middle of the dining room, chills suddenly rolling over my body in huge, horrible waves.

"What is it?" I whisper, suddenly terrified for a reason I can't explain.

"It's … it's Danni." Her voice breaks, and my heart clenches painfully.

"What about her?" I demand.

"There's… there's been an accident."

"Is she okay?" I seem to have gone numb. I can't feel anything besides the horrible fear and the pain in my chest where my heart is supposed to be.

"She's alive," Kate whispers, her voice choked with tears. "But she's…she's in really bad shape, Jake."

"Where are you?" I ask, unable to think of anything else to ask. She rattles off the name and room number of the nearest hospital. I almost hang up without saying good-bye in my rush to get there.

"I'll be right there," I assure her, hanging up. But when I try to take a step forward, I find myself pitching toward the floor. I catch myself on the table, and the noise is enough to cause Gran to come searching for me, looking concerned.

"Get Summer," I manage. "We have to go to the hospital."

Gran goes pale, her eyes widening in fear. "Why? What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Kate just said…said there was an accident…" I shake my head, unable to think through any more than that.

"You go now. I'll get Summer and be there with the car soon," she says, taking charge. She takes the cordless receiver I'm still clutching out of my hand and sets it on the table. I nod, she hugs me, and a second later she disappears into the living room to collect Summer.

I Apparate to the parking garage Kaitlyn took me to when Summer was born. Luckily there's no one around, so I don't attract any attention as I race to the elevators. Having not patience with the stupid Muggle contraption, I Apparate up the staircase until I find the floor with the door the lobby.

The receptionist looks up in alarm when I burst inside frantically, completely unsure of where I'm supposed to go. I hurry over and spit out the room number Kate gave me. Her eyes widen, but she gives me directions. I nod, rasp out a thank you, and run, not even stopping for the elevators.

I follow the signs across the expansive campus of the hospital until I find the ward that had the woman at the desk looking so concerned. Outside is a locked door, a Muggle device that I've learned is called an_ intercom_, and a sign stating: ICU – Intensive Care Unit. Even being raised completely by wizards, I know what that means. My entire body goes cold.

Kaitlyn is suddenly standing in the doorway with a sympathetic-looking nurse behind her. She looks like she's in pretty bad shape herself, but she runs forward and throws her arms around my neck, shaking and sobbing by the time she reaches me. She buries her face in my neck, but I'm so frozen I can barely hug her back.

"Kate…what?"

"Jake, I'm so sorry," she sobs, clinging to me. "I'm so, so, so sorry. I was so stupid. I'm such an idiot. Please forgive me, Jake. I'm so sorry."

"What?" I can't seem to manage anything more than that one word.

"I'm so, so stupid," she keeps mumbling, still crying.

"What?"

"Miss, why don't we step inside?" the nurse asks gently, glancing around a little nervously. I look around to see several people stopped in the corridor, staring at us. We must be quite a sight.

Kaitlyn nods, gulping and wiping away tears. I wrap my arm around her purely out of instinct, and she starts crying again. I wonder if it's my fault, or if the two actions are just coincidental, but then I realize that I don't care.

The nurse leads us to a little waiting room. There are only two other people in there, a man and a young boy, both looking worried and sad. I try not to think of why that might be as I sit down on an uncomfortably overstuffed and hard sofa. Kate sits down next to me and curls up against my side, leaning her head on my shoulder, tears still streaming down her face.

"What happened?" I ask after an uncomfortable pause. The other two occupants of the small room are very obviously trying not to look as though they're listening, and I try to ignore them.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," Kate whispers again, hugging my arm. "We were …we were just getting done shopping… on our way home, and…" she pauses to wipe away some more tears, swallowing and blinking hard. "…Danni and I were just…goofing off, you know? She asked if she could drive… I didn't think anything of it, not really… I mean, we were going to stop just down the street for a snack before coming home, so I didn't think it would be any problem, but…" she shakes her head, burying her face in my shirt again, whether in shame or to hide her tears, I can't tell. I hug her.

"Apparently Danielle wasn't paying attention to what she was doing and pulled out in front of a large truck. Kaitlyn said she tried to get out of the way, but…?" the nurse trails off, looking at Kate questioningly. Kate sniffs.

"The road was wet…we were laughing about how you had said it might rain…she skidded and spun… another car hit us, pushing us into the first truck."

Completely numb and frozen now, the only thing I can think to do is hold Kaitlyn while she cries, and hope Gran gets here soon.

"She's in very critical condition," the nurse says carefully, and Kate lets out a little sob. "We… we're not sure how much time she has. We're doing everything we can, but …" she trails off, and I stare at her. What is she trying to say? That Danni could…?

"Can I see her?" I ask softly, and the nurse gives me a pained look, as though she'd been hoping I wouldn't ask.

"Yes…"

I stand up immediately, eliciting a little wail from Kate, who refuses to come with. I don't push it as I follow the nurse into the ward.

We walk past several rooms with large glass walls, some covered with heavy curtains, some not, some with the doors sealed, others standing open with people inside. I try not to look at any of them, afraid to have something to compare Danni to. I swallow hard as the nurse stops outside one of the curtained rooms and opens the door for me. I step inside, terrified of what I'll find there.

At first I wonder if it's the right room at all, as the woman lying on the elevated bed with countless tubes running from her couldn't possibly be Danni – not _my_ Danni, anyway. But as I stare, unable to tear my eyes away from to sight, I start to see the resemblances.

Looking at her, I feel as though my heart is breaking. Every inch of skin not covered in some sort of tube, wire, or gauze, is bruised or scraped, shining strangely in the light, most likely due to some kind of medicine. Her eyes are closed, and the strange machine, which I somehow recognize as some sort of heart monitor, isn't beeping as quickly as I think it should be. I try not to focus on any one particular tube or another, fearful of finding out what each one is for; what each tube is keeping alive.

I find myself suddenly standing at her side, not quite sure how I got there. I find a conveniently placed chair and collapse into it, shaking. I hear the nurse walk around to the other side of the room to check one of the many machines, but I ignore her.

"Danni," I manage, my voice weak and pitiful-sounding. I touch her fingertips, afraid to move even her hand for fear of hurting her. I can't help but notice several casts and braces keeping her immobile, and tears jump to my eyes.

"Oh, Jake." Gran is suddenly standing behind me, her hands on my shoulders. The tears start falling.

.x.

I open my eyes to see a hand wrapped in gauze with a tube sticking out of it inches from my face. I sit up, stiff and sore, a crick in my neck from lying in an uncomfortable position all night, yet again. The horrible events of the other night come rushing back just like before, and I feel yet another wave of sorrow and despair. So much for bad dreams.

Empty and tired after another long night, all I can do is stare at her hopelessly. It's been almost thirty-six hours since Danni was admitted, and she's only gotten progressively worse. Every minute she's fighting for her life, and all she's doing is exhausting her already too-weak body.

The worst part was when I hit sudden inspiration and tried to convince Gran to take her to St. Mungo's, remembering all too clearly what Aria had once said to me about what might have been different if she and her mum had been found by wizards instead of Muggles. I had expected that Gran would see as much sense in this idea as I did, and we could simply Apparate her over there and modify all the Muggles' memories that had seen her admitted.

Gran had looked so miserable when she informed that if the Apparition trip alone didn't kill her, being off of all her monitors for the few minutes it would take to get her there would. That was when it finally sunk in. Danni is slowly dying right in front of my eyes and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I stare at her, thinking of Aria and her Healer training, and wondering if she could somehow help – or if she _would_. Gran didn't think there was any way a Healer would have time to brew all the potions and find all the right spells to save her – it would only prolong her suffering that much more, and even then there's a chance they couldn't save her. There's just so much _damage_ – broken bones, fractured skull, organ damage, possibly some sort of internal bleeding, but the doctors aren't positive, and they say it's not in a vital enough area to do anything about it now if she's not going to live – you can imagine how well _that_ conversation went – and now they're thinking that even if she did somehow miraculously pull through, she could have some sort of brain damage as well.

Healers can only do so much – they can heal bones and do their best with damage to most parts of the body, but according to Gran, they haven't come very far in the way of brain studies. I just hate that the one thing Danni always wanted to be a part of – the magical world – can't even save her now.

Kate's being really rough on herself. Gran and I have both told her every chance we get that it couldn't possibly be her fault, and that of course we don't blame her. We did have one rough patch though, the first night right after I got done seeing Danni.

Kaitlyn had seemed determined to take the blame for everything, insisting that if she hadn't let Danni drive, it never would have happened. She explained that the second car had hit the driver's side, and when they were pushed into the truck that it smashed in the front end, pinning Danni, but leaving Kate free to step away with only a broken wrist and several nasty bruises to account for.

It took me nearly an hour to convince her that I wasn't mad at her in any way. She's been mostly taking care of Summer, which I decided was good for her after Gran suggested just going home with Summer for awhile.

Danni's mum has been in and out every couple of hours, and whenever she's here, I make sure to take Kate and leave as quickly as possible. Ms. Klein doesn't seem to mind me, but once she found out that it was Kate who was in the car with Danni, she was quick to make it known who she held responsible. Deciding that Kaitlyn feels guilty enough without Ms. Klein's assistance, I always find some reason to take her away when Danni's mum visits.

"Jake?"

I look up to see the vaguely familiar faces of Danni's friends Jason and Mark, the same ones who visited when Summer was born. I can't even pretend to be glad to see them. Mark's forehead creases in concern, and Jason shifts uncomfortably when I don't get up to greet them.

"Hey," I finally manage dully. Jason comes forward uncertainly, his gaze flickering between me and the unconscious form of Danni on the bed. I lean my elbows against her bed and put my head in my hands, not caring to witness any _more_ people staring at Danni in dismay.

"We just found out late last night," Mark explains, and I can feel him standing next to me. I don't look up. "Melanie called the house and her mum told her. It was too late to come visit…"

I just nod. I figured her friends would have to find out eventually. I had kind of hoped I wouldn't be here when they showed up though.

"Where's Summer?" Jason asks cautiously, and I sigh.

"With Kaitlyn. Or my grandmother. I'm not sure which."

"How long have you been here?" asks Mark, sounding concerned again. I shrug.

"Almost two days now. I hate leaving her," I explain. An uncomfortable silence falls after that, and a moment later Mark drags a chair up next to mine and sits down. I don't look at him, not wanting to see the worry and pain in his face.

We stay like that for a long time, just sitting in silence for lengthy moments, saying a few sentences, then falling quiet again. Jase leaves after forty minutes of it, unable to stand the miserable atmosphere, but Mark stays, and I find myself feeling grateful to him for it.

"You and Melanie are pretty good friends to her, huh?" I ask randomly, and he glances at me in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that… out of everyone that I ever hear about, you two seem to care for her the most genuinely. When Summer was born… that Kylie girl seemed to want only to see Summer. She didn't even ask how Danni was, but Melanie did. And you… you seem to care about her a lot too. Both you and Jase," I say, and he smiles slightly.

"Danni and I have been friends for awhile. She's like a sister to me. I…I couldn't imagine…" he trails off, a pained look crossing his features, and I can imagine how he would have ended that sentence. _…living without her._ My heart clenches.

.x.

Hours pass that feel like entire lifetimes. I spend time with Summer when I can, but the knowledge that she'll still be there no matter what keeps me at Danni's side for fear of losing her. Gran spends as much time with us as she can stand, but after only a couple hours she has to leave again.

Mark leaves sometime after lunch and returns sometime later with Melanie. They only stay for a few minutes though before leaving again, Melanie apologizing tearfully as they go.

I sit on my chair and stare at her, hating life's unfairness for giving me this chance to start over and then taking it away again with no warning. What kind of sick joke is this world anyway? Forget me, what about _Summer?_ She needs her mum.

As I sit there, dwelling on my own misfortunes, I start to see the irony. I refused to leave because of my belief that Summer needed to know _both_ her parents, and now _fate_, or God, or _whatever_ is taking away the one person Summer needed more than anyone – more than me, more than Gran, more than Ms. Klein or Kaitlyn.

I sigh. Life sucks.

.x.

It's late at night when Ms. Klein and Gran show up again with Kaitlyn and Summer. A nurse leads them in, and I can see in her face that she doesn't think this will last much longer. _Danni_ won't last much longer. I feel tears start sliding down my face without any idea as to how the could have gotten there.

We all sit in a semi-circle around the bed for hours, talking to and about Danni, crying and holding each other. I hold Danni's wrapped hand and will her to wake up, if only so I could tell her I love her again.

I tell her anyway. Over and over again until it's practically a chant. I lean my head against her arm and cry harder than I knew I could. Harder than when I had to break Aria's heart. Harder than when Ron and I talked about him loving me. Harder than when I finally realized, at the age of seven, that my mum didn't really want me.

This is good-bye.

Ms. Klein tells us some stories about Danni from when she was younger that make us smile through our tears for a few seconds at a time. Gran does the same.

Kaitlyn sits there in silence, not speaking at all, curled in on herself, crying quietly to herself. I don't try to reach for her – she doesn't want it right now. I hold Summer in my free arm and hold onto Danni with the other hand.

"I love you so much," I whisper, my head still bent against her arm. She doesn't respond in any way, and more tears soak the already tear-stained sheet. "Please don't leave me. I love you. I love you, Danni. Please."

x.x

Kaitlyn

I had a lot of friends growing up – as a naturally trusting and friendly person, it was easy to make friends. I still have a lot…but none quite like Jake and Danni. I don't know what it is about them, but I love spending time with them. I was starting to regard Danni as my very _best_ friend. I felt as though I could tell her anything and she would understand. And now I'm losing that.

x.x

Diana Parks

I've known her since she was just this annoying little girl who would run through my yard and trample my flowers. She was the brightest, sweetest, most charming child. She was the only thing that kept me sane after Annabelle disappeared with little Jacob. She's my granddaughter, in a sense. I love her.

She helped Jake more than she ever really knew. Even though they had a baby, even though they were too young, even though it was never perfect…they worked together. She made him happy. He made her happy. They were good together. Now what?

x.x

Joanna Klein

My daughter. My only child. My baby. The only thing I had left in this world after Craig. She gave me a new family, which comes here now to be with me, to comfort me. She gave me a son and a granddaughter and a true friend. She was the one that kept me grounded in reality when everything else was wrong. What will I ever do without her?

x.x

Jake

At two forty-eight, a.m., we all hear the soft, dangerously slow beeping from the heart monitor machine turn into a horrible, heartbreaking continuous hum. Ms. Klein breaks into fresh sobs, and she and Gran hug each other, both crying, suddenly hysterical. Kaitlyn, already curled into a little ball, buries her face in her knees, shaking, still silent.

I can't cry anymore. I stare at that stupid machine in disbelief, hating it. Hating the stupid hospital staff for not saving her. Hating Danni for not fighting harder. I get up carefully so as not to disturb Summer, asleep in her carrier on the floor, and leave the room.

I just walk. I walk, frozen and numb again, unfeeling, the only sound a dull thudding in my ears. There's barely anyone around at this hour, lights turned off and doors shut for the night. I know the door the ward will be locked; I'll have to ask a nurse to let me out. This thought makes me even angrier.

I all but slam into the waiting room, startling the same man I saw here when I arrived. He must have been napping on the sofa. He sees my face, and pity fills his expression, which only makes me feel like pounding my fist into his face. I storm by him, hating him too.

When I stalk by the reception desk to the ward, I glare toward the tired night-shift nurse working there. She doesn't even ask; she pushes some buttons and the buzzing sound of the door allows me to walk out.

As I walk through the deserted hospital, fuming, hating the world, all I can think of, all I can hear is that persistent, constant beep, ringing mockingly in my ears. The only thing I can see is Danni's bruised and battered tube-filled face, burned permanently across my vision. And I can't even cry. Hating myself now too, I stab at the elevator button, not caring anymore about how claustrophobic it makes me feel or about how long it takes.

I don't even realize where I'm headed until I find myself outside, standing in the cool night air. I take a deep breath, hoping to calm myself, but it doesn't work. And then I realize where I want to be, who I want to see, who I want to comfort me, and the tears really start.

I sit down on a bench and sob, hating everyone and everything. Hating my mum for leaving me, Ron for pretending not to love me, Aria for never telling me how she felt, myself for not telling _her_ how _I_ felt; hating Sean for trying to keep me in the loop and only making me cling harder to the hope of Aria; hating Gran for never trying to find me; hating my father for not being there so I had to leave in the first place, Kaitlyn for not letting me comfort her, Ms. Klein for never seeing the truth in her evil husband, and most of all Danni, for leaving me when I needed her the most.

Sick of sitting again, I get up and stalk angrily down the street, no particular destination in mind. I start thinking again of everything that's happened in the last year, hating it, loving it, missing it, completely confused. Finally just fed up with it all, I spin around on my heel. I really need a father right now.

x.x

Ron

The sound of ferocious knocking wakes both Keira and me up in the middle of the night. I sit up in alarm and reach for the clock, seeing in surprise that it's nearly three in the morning.

"Go see what it is," Keira mumbles, rolling over and pulling a pillow over her head. Annoyed at the persistent banging, I grab my wand, get up, and stumble toward the stairs.

"Dad, what is it?" Abby calls from her doorway, sounding annoyed. I wave her back to bed.

"Nothing, I'll fix it," I assure her. "Go back to sleep." She makes a face but goes back into her room, shutting the door behind her.

As I head downstairs, the pounding only gets louder. Grumbling, I flick my wand and illuminate the kitchen. Outside the front door, to my immense surprise, is a very distressed-looking Jacob Parks.

Shocked and rather annoyed, I wrench open the door and stand aside to let him in. I'm about to start lecturing him on the proper time to come calling for a visit when I get a really good look at his face. And I know that now is not the time.

"Jake, what happened?"

He completely loses it. He crumbles to the floor right where he's standing, burying his face in his hands, _sobbing_. For a moment I have no idea what to do, all my years of fatherly experience with upset children suddenly abandoning me. Then it all comes back in a rush and I immediately drop down next to him.

"Hey, hey, what is it?" I ask gently, grabbing his shoulder. He just continues to cry, and I sit back and marvel at this nearly adult man sitting in my kitchen _sobbing_ like a child who just lost his favorite toy.

_Or like a child who just lost someone he loved?_

The realization strikes me hard, and I quickly scramble through my thoughts for the well-being of my own children. I just saw Sean today, and Aria was at dinner two nights ago. Nothing could have happened to them. So then…

"Jake, _what happened?_"

"Danni," he manages, his voice breaking. "How could she do this to me?" he asks, abruptly furious. He jumps up, so I stand as well, and he glares at me hatefully. "I _need_ her! _Summer_ needs her! She should have fought harder! How could she have given up so easily when we _need her?_" His voice breaks again, and he's sobbing once more. I lead him into the living room, and he sinks into the sofa.

"What happened to her?" I ask softly, and he takes a huge breath.

"She's gone, Ron," he whispers. From his tone, I understand all too well what he means by that.

"Oh, Jake." I can't think of anything to say. I don't want to lie to him, and I know nothing can make it better, so I sit there and let him cry.

"Why, Ron? _Why?_"

"I don't know, kid," I sigh. "These things just happen."

"How am I supposed to raise Summer? What will I do without her?" he asks desperately, and I feel as though I'm talking to a little boy again.

"You survive, Jake. That's the best you can do sometimes," I say grimly. "You love your daughter and do what's best for her and hope that it's enough."

"I should go," he says quietly. "They'll wonder where I went."

"Alright," I say, feeling a twinge of sadness that he can't stay longer. He gets up, suddenly intent on getting out of her. "Jake?" I say as he starts toward the door. He looks back expectantly.

"Don't do anything stupid. And…stay in touch. We're always here if you need us." He gives me half a smile before disappearing again. I watch him go, feeling as though I should have done something more.

x.x

Jake

When I get back to the hospital, Kaitlyn is waiting for me. She stares at me wordlessly when I arrive for a moment before her face crumples and she run toward me. I hug her when she wraps her arms around my waist, laying her head against my shoulder, crying. We stand like that for a long time before she finally pulls away, sniffling.

"It shouldn't have happened like this," she says, her voice cracking. I hug her again.

"It isn't your fault though," I remind her, and she lets out another sob.

"I just feel so awful."

"Me too." I bury my face in her hair, crying again.

"You're my best friend you know," Kate whispers into my neck and I hug her again.

"Right now, Kate, I feel like you're my only friend," I say, and we both cry some more.

"Do you think it hurt? Do you think she felt any of that stuff?" she asks after awhile, and I shudder.

"I hope not, Kaitlyn. I hope she was deep in sleep. I hope she was dreaming of happy things," I say sadly.

Kaitlyn gives me a watery smile, her eyes glittering with tears. "If she was, she was dreaming of you and Summer. She loved you so much, Jake."

"I loved her too, Kate. I still love her. How could you not love her?"

She gives a little laugh. "I don't know, Jake." We exchange sad smiles, remembering. I think of the last conversation we ever had, tears still slipping down my face. At least she knew I loved her. At least there's that.**

* * *

A/N**: Don't hate me. It's crucial to the plot. Did you guys cry as much as I did? I already _knew_, and I still cried as I was writing it. Please review. I apologize again for the huge delay, for the horrible way to welcome you back with this chapter, and for any and all grammatical/spelling errors due to lack of editing. Sorry, guys.

One last note. I apologize if any of you have tried to send me a PM recently and I didn't reply. My email was being weird and I wasn't receiving alerts from FF at all. I've got the problem fixed now though, so please feel free to PM me at will. Haha. Thanks, everyone, and please review!


	34. Untold Stories

**A/N**: Yay! I didn't take a month and a half to update! Rejoice! Penultimate chapter, guys. Good vocab word, no? I think so. Thanks again to all of you who reviewed last chapter. This one is a bit choppy to start with because everyone is still in shock over Danni, so their thought processes aren't quite normal. And I randomly stuck in a little Al/Aria for your enjoyment. Read on!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Untold Stories**

Jake

The funeral is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.

I'm sitting on the floor in the living room, staring at my daughter sleeping on her quilt on the floor, looking completely innocent and unaware of what's going on. How anyone could think she looks like me is beyond my comprehension. All I can see, staring at her flawless, peaceful face, is her mother. The thought brings tears to my eyes, and I blink them away, not wanting to miss one second of watching Summer sleep.

I hear footsteps, but I don't look, unwilling to tear my eyes away from the beautiful little girl in front of me. I feel a soft hand on my shoulder, and the slight motion of someone sitting down beside me, but still I don't look over.

"She looks so much like her," Kate breathes, her voice catching slightly. I swallow against another onslaught of tears. Unable to speak, I simply nod in agreement.

We sit in silence for a long time, just watching Summer. She murmurs and coos in her sleep, and the tiniest of smiles adorns her beautiful face for a second before disappearing. She has Danni's smile. Unable to bear it any longer, I get up, startling Kaitlyn, and walk away.

x.x

Kaitlyn

When Jake walks off, I sit there staring at the baby. I know Jake doesn't think she looks like him, but I see it. Of course she looks like Danni too – her perfect little nose, her tiny smile, the curls massing at the top of her head already – but sometimes she reminds me so much of Jake that it's almost scary.

It's this look she has about her sometimes. She's usually very smiley and loving, wanting to be cuddled and perfectly content in anyone's arms. But sometimes, she'll get really quite and serious, and just stare up at you with this big, dark eyes exactly like Jake's, and you can't help but think she's studying you, looking for something beneath the surface. Just like Jake does every now and then. Or maybe it's just me, letting my imagination run wild.

I stare at Summer, hating how unfair life is. I reach out and smooth her wildly curly hair down softly, running my fingers lightly through the dark silk.

"You don't deserve this," I murmur sadly. It's been only a few days, but slowly I can feel the horrible guilt lessening. Mrs. Parks tells me every day that nobody blames me for what happens, and I'm almost starting to believe it. Even Danni's mum has been less hateful toward me the last couple of days. She doesn't give me death-wish glares anymore when I see her, at least.

I sigh, looking at Summer, so completely oblivious to the world around her. What I would give to be the same.

x.x

Ron

Abby and Henry are playing Quidditch in the back yard, though with only two of them, the game mostly consists of them trying to steal our beat-up Quaffle from each other. I watch them with only half of my awareness, not quite able to get into it.

I haven't heard from Jake. I can imagine all too well what he must be going through. I hope he has someone to comfort him. I wish I knew where to find him so I could see him, just to know if he's alright.

It occurs to me that Sean might know how to reach him, but I haven't spoken to him in almost a week, so I don't know what his schedule is. He could be at practice or something. He could have a game for all I know.

I haven't told Keira yet. I know she's getting worried – every now and then she'll send me these concerned glances when she thinks I'm not looking. Everything has just been so hard, knowing that Jake is out there somewhere, in pain. I can too clearly remember what it felt like when Hermione died; this must be at least that awful for him, if not even worse.

Poor kid.

x.x

Sean

The empty kitchen counter where I usually find my mail is annoying me. Normally I can expect to find a letter from Jake there at least once a week – usually more often than that though. He always has something to tell me about Danni or Summer or Kaitlyn, no matter how trivial. It's been almost two weeks since the last letter. I wonder if I should be worried. Maybe he's just having a busy week … or two.

Maybe he's waiting for me to write him. But that's not right; I wrote the last one. I clearly remember telling him about the crazy fans assaulting Kyle and me one night in Diagon Alley. I remember laughing as I wrote it, eager for his reply, knowing he'd have something sarcastic and funny to say.

I could just write a note. It wouldn't hurt anything. So, going into the living room, I find a spare piece of parchment and set out in search of a quill. It takes me nearly ten minutes to find one in the bottom of a drawer in the kitchen, though what it's doing there, I couldn't tell you.

_Jake-_

_What's up? Haven't heard from you in awhile. Is everything alright?_

_-Sean_

I wonder if it's too pushy or nosy. He could just be working a lot, trying to earn extra money. Or maybe the letter got lost. It's always a possibility. Shrugging and deciding it can't hurt anyway, I fold the letter in half, scrawl Jake's name on the front and find my owl sleeping away in the bedroom, his head under his wing.

He glares at me when I wake him up, but I just hand him the letter and carry him to the window. He digs his talons in a little harder than necessary as he takes off into early evening sky, but I ignore it. Ruddy bird.

x.x

Jake

I wake up in the middle of the night, not understanding what woke me. Summer isn't crying; I can almost hear the faint sound of her breathing from the room across the hall. I look at the clock, surprised to see it's only eleven. I've only been sleeping for an hour or so.

The tapping at my window scares me; I jump and look around, only just noticing the bird perched outside my bedroom, waiting for me to let him in. I recognize Sean's owl immediately.

He swoops in, dropping the letter on my bed, not even pausing before flying away again. Stupid bird, not even waiting to see if I'm going to reply. Annoyed and slightly guilty, for I realize now that I didn't even answer Sean's last letter, I go back to the bed and sit down.

It's not even a letter – it's barely three full sentences. And yet, reading it makes my throat close up as I'm reminded again of _why_ I didn't answer the last letter. I'd been busy when I got it, and I was planning on sitting down and writing it that weekend…

Shaking my head, blinking against stinging tears, I set the note down on my bedside table and pick up a Muggle pen lying there. I don't even bother to search for a new piece of parchment.

_Sean-_

_No, everything isn't alright. Danni's_

I can't even write the word. I stare at the unfinished reply, my hand shaking. I notice the ink smudging, and it takes me a minute or so to realize that there are tears running down my face, falling onto the letter.

_dead._

I don't sign it. I go back to the window, wondering if Sean's owl really left, or if he's out in the yard somewhere, waiting. I hear a low hoot from my left, and then he's suddenly there again, expectant. I give him the two-sentence note, and he flies off. I could have sworn the look he gave me as he left was sympathetic.

x.x

Kaitlyn

The church isn't very crowded. I don't know how I feel about that.

Jake is sitting by himself in a corner, staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched, his eyes tight. Mrs. Parks and Ms. Klein are standing together quietly, greeting people as they come in the door, graciously accepting all of the 'I'm so sorry for your loss's. And I'm sitting here on a bench, holding Summer, trying not to cry.

"You're Kaitlyn, right?"

I look up to see one of the two blokes who came to visit Danni after she had Summer. I don't remember which one it is, but I nod in response to his question. He sighs and sits down beside me.

"It's Jase," he reminds me, and I nod again. He gives me a grim look before glancing down at Summer.

"It just isn't fair," he whispers, staring at her. She stares back, her dark eyes inquisitive, and a shadow of a smile crosses Jase's face.

"Life isn't fair," I remind him hollowly, and he lets out a humorless laugh.

"Too true," he murmurs. "Where's…?" He trails off, his eyes finding Jake. "He's not taking it well, is he?"

Tears well up in my eyes at the thought of Jake. "He can barely function," I whisper. "He's completely isolated himself inside his own head. He hardly speaks anymore." I swallow hard and try to blink away the tears, but they manage to escape anyway, slipping down my cheeks and dripping into Summer's hair. She turns her head at the moisture, looking around with wide eyes, and I wipe away the drops off my face.

Jase murmurs something that should probably be comforting, squeezes my shoulder, and gets up, going to talk to Ms. Klein again. I spot Melanie and Mark coming in the door at the same time he does, and I watch as he veers over to speak with them instead.

Melanie is crying already, and seeing her brings back the lump to my throat. Mark's face is taut like Jake's, and I can see his eyes are glassy.

I have to turn away. Jase is right; life isn't fair. These people knew Danni her entire life; I only got to know her for a few months. More tears fall at that.

The ceremony is small, but at least no one gets up and talks about how wonderful Danni's life was or anything. Melanie says a few things, choking on sobs the entire time, and Mark gives us a little bit of his perspective on Danni.

"She was a selfless, caring person who would have done anything for her family," he finishes, looking directly at Jake, Mrs. Parks, and Ms. Klein. Jake is staring stubbornly in the opposite direction, probably focusing his entire mind on whatever little speck he's watching. Silent tears are sliding down his face, but he doesn't wipe them away. I'm not even sure he knows they're there.

The service ends a few minutes later. Jake walks straight out of the church, his face hard. My heart breaks for him as I watch him go.

x.x

Sean

I sit on the sofa, staring at the two short sentences scrawled shakily on the back of my letter. I've been sitting here for almost an hour, just staring. Is this someone's idea of a joke? I know it isn't, but it feels that way, as though somebody decided it was 'Let's Play a Really Cruel Joke on the World Day' or something.

How can Danni be dead? What happened? When? _How?_

A knock at the door scares me. I jump and drop the parchment, and it floats away, landing under the coffee table. The knocking continues, getting louder.

"C'min," I mutter, and the door practically flies open. I look up to see Dad standing there, his face looking rather the way I feel at the moment. I wonder if he knows.

"Have you heard from Jake lately?" he asks, and I see something strange flash through his eyes, but it's gone too fast for me to realize what it is. I nod at the sheet of parchment sticking out from under my table.

"He just sent me that this morning."

Dad crosses the room in three strides and scoops up the short letter. He reads it and sighs, looking disappointed and not the least bit surprised. Well, that answers my question at least.

"I haven't heard from him since…" he nods at the note.

"When did he write you?" I demand, slightly insulted that I wasn't informed sooner. Dad stares at me.

"He didn't. He showed up in my kitchen at three o'clock in the morning that night," he explains, brandishing Jake's short letter. He sighs again and sinks down into my one armchair, which actually used to be his. Mum's been hiding it in the attic since we redecorated the living room, hoping he'd forget about it. She was all too willing to pawn it off on me when I asked.

"How do you think he's holding up?" I ask softly, and he flinches.

"Not well," he says miserably. "I just hope he has someone …" he lets the sentence taper off, but I understand. I hope he has someone to lean on too.

"Do you think we should go see him?" I suggest, but Dad gives me a grimace.

"I'm not sure that we're what he needs right now, son. Could be he wants nothing more than to be left alone. Give him his space; hold off on the letters for a couple weeks. He needs some time. He won't get over this quickly," he explains.

I know he's speaking from experience, having lost Aria's mum, who he was once so in love with and was always one of his best friends. What do I know about loss? My biggest loss was when Jake left, and he's still alive. I can't count my first father because he died before I was even born. I've never lost anyone. I shiver at the thought of how awful that would be: losing someone I love. I can't even imagine it.

Poor Jake.

x.x

Aria

"…Aria?"

I glance up at Al to see him watching me expectantly. Blushing, I realize he's been talking this entire time, and I haven't caught a word he's said.

"Sorry," I apologize, sighing slightly. "I'm not trying to ignore you; I'm just sort of preoccupied." I lean against him, and his arms wrap around my waist automatically.

"What for?" he asks, hugging me to him. I shrug uncertainly and twist around to look into his face. He's watching me with concern in his eyes.

"I don't know, honestly. But all day I haven't been able to focus on anything at all. I'm just … feeling weird," I try to explain, but I can see he doesn't get it. How do I describe this awful, strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, or the weird catch in my chest when I try to breathe too deeply? I wish there was some medical explanation for it, but I know there's nothing wrong with me, physically.

"Are you sick?" he asks, and I bite back another sigh.

"No, that's not it," I assure him. "I've just been feeling…odd today. It's hard to explain." I shrug like it's nothing, not letting him see how much this is actually bothering me. He lets it drop and we fall into a comfortable silence.

The two of us have developed a rather workable daily routine. What with Quidditch dominating his life now that it's summer again, combined with the fact that I'm now shouldering the duties that come with my new second-year trainee status, our schedules haven't been very compatible lately. We've finally, in the last week or so, nailed down a nearly perfect agenda, which we've jokingly nicknamed 'visiting hours'.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday last week, I woke up half an hour early and snuck over to Al's flat to make him breakfast – well, that was my excuse; I really just wanted to see him, since we hadn't seen each other for nearly two weeks prior to that. In return, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday, I awoke to the smell of something cooking – not even _burning_, but actually cooking – in my own kitchen.

It's Wednesday again. I made Al breakfast this morning, not that it was anything fancy really. Toast and cereal was about it. I woke up late.

It took us a total of three days of this breakfast thing to decide it wasn't enough. Twenty minutes or less each morning just wasn't cutting it. So now we're sitting in my flat together at ten o'clock at night, completely unwilling to let go of one another. We've been doing this since Monday – he'll come over as soon as he gets done with Quidditch (which is usually five o'clock or later, depending on how well practice goes each day), and I'll get home around five, and we'll have supper, and then we'll just sit here on my sofa, talking. Or, in the case of tonight, just sitting here in silence, holding one another.

It works for us.

"Are you coming to the game on Saturday?" asks Al, breaking the silence. I shrug.

"Probably. Do I ever miss a home match?" I ask, and he chuckles slightly.

"I guess not. Sean asked me to "request" that you bring Abby and Henry with you," he says, and this time I do sigh.

"That bad, huh?"

I manage a smile at his joke, shrugging. I don't mind spending time with them, but it's keeping an eye on them that's the trouble. Henry always wants to go shop for souvenirs or get something to eat, and Abby has become a full-blown obsessive Ireland fangirl, so she absolutely refuses to leave her seat in case she miss even a second of her idols playing. And I can't just _leave_ her there by herself and go carting Henry all over the place. Dad would kill me.

I've explained this to Al a hundred times.

"It'll get easier once Henry's in school," he assures me. "Then he'll finally realize what a great sport Quidditch is. It takes a little House pride to get the message through sometimes," he says, and I smile, hoping he's right. Henry enjoys Quidditch well enough, but he really only goes to see Sean. He could probably care less about the actual match.

"It's late," he comments softly, and I tighten my arms around him, holding him to me. A silent laugh goes through his chest, but I don't care.

"Don't leave." He runs his fingers through my hair and groans slightly.

"I wish I could stay," he murmurs, kissing the side of my head. I hug him closer, ignoring the implications in his wish. We've never discussed this sort of thing, both of us rather content with where we are now. I let myself think he only means that he wants to stay here on this couch, holding me, pushing all other thoughts away stubbornly.

"Then don't go," I answer, and he chuckles again before letting out a long breath.

"You know I can't stay."

I wince, but I don't comment. I can feel him shaking his head, and he starts to let go. I redouble my hold on him.

"Aria," he says firmly, taking one of my arms in each hand. He has huge hands; they wrap all the way around my forearms with fingers overlapping. Gently, Al pulls me away, and I sigh.

"I'll see you in the morning," he whispers, leaning in and – still holding onto my arms – kissing me. He stands up before I can kiss him back.

"See you," I say sadly, watching him go.

"Sweet dreams." He smiles apologetically before turning abruptly and Apparating away. Feeling pointlessly rejected for some reason, I get up and trudge to bed, already missing his cheering presence, knowing that I won't have anything to distract me anymore from the awful feeling gnawing away at my stomach.

So much for those sweet dreams.

x.x

Jake

"Jake, you have to get out of the house."

I look up at Gran in surprise. She's kicking me out? Why? I haven't done anything wrong.

"You've been moping around here for three weeks."

I have not been _moping_. I've been taking care of Summer, even doing extra chores like washing dishes – by _hand_, emptying the rubbish bins, doing my own laundry. On top of all that I've been keeping up with _two_ jobs. I've been keeping so busy I haven't had _time_ to mope.

"You need to do something. Find a hobby or something, I don't know. But you can't sit around here all day anymore. I'm tired of it. I know you miss her; we all do. I know it's hard on you. Of course I know that. But it's breaking my heart to watch you wasting away like this."

"What do you suggest?" I ask, a bit more sarcastic than I'd meant to be. She shrugs as though she doesn't notice, though of course she does.

"I don't know. Why don't you do whatever it was you did before you came here?"

_You mean searching for my father?_ I almost say it aloud. I stare at her, trying to see if that's what she means, or if she was innocently suggesting I take up Quidditch or something again. She just gives me a look and walks away.

I ponder over that for a long time. That's what I originally set out to do isn't it? I wanted to find my father, to have closure with the fact that he didn't want me…or maybe to prove my mum wrong. I'm not sure which.

_Should_ I be looking for him? What if I can't find him? What if he doesn't _want_ to be found? What if he's completely repulsed by the idea of me? What if, what if, what if?

_What if Gran knows something?_

The question has me walking down the hall to her bedroom before I'm even aware of making the decision to ask her anything. I'm knocking before I truly realize what I'm doing.

"Come in."

"What do you know about my dad?" The question pops out of its own accord. Gran stares at me for a long moment before setting down the book she must have just opened. She gestures for me to come in and sit down, so I do, perching on the edge of her bed uncertainly.

"What do you want to know?" she asks cautiously.

"Everything." The word just spills out, not even asking my brain for permission anymore. I find I don't care.

"I don't know everything," she says apologetically, grimacing slightly. I shrug.

"Everything you know."

Gran takes a deep breath, no longer looking at me.

"Your mum had a great childhood, did you know that?" she asks. I'm about to ask what this has to do with my father, but she shoots me a look that tells me to keep my mouth shut and continues.

"She was such a happy girl all the time. Had everything a kid could ask for. We lived out of town, on a good-sized property. Not quite a farm, but it served well enough. Anna loved everything outdoors – flowers, trees, grass, dogs, cats, birds, you name it. She'd climb trees all day and come in at night with scrapes and scratches all over her arms and legs.

"She didn't go to Hogwarts, which you already know of course. I was homeschooled as a girl, so it felt natural to keep her home as well. She didn't really _want_ to go to anyway. "Why would I ever want to leave this place?" she asked when she got her letter. I didn't know the answer to that. I couldn't think of a reason for wanting such a thing either.

"I'm not sure when it happened exactly," Gran says, a bit more gravely now. She frowns thoughtfully before going on. "She was just over seventeen I suppose, working at some wizarding pub in the village. She came home one day grinning and all … _giggly_. Told me about some "dashing" Muggle man who had accidentally wandered into the pub. Wouldn't shut up about him." She chortles slightly at that, and I manage a smile. This girl sounds so different from my vindictive, hateful mother that it's hard to remember that we're talking about the same person.

"He was a few years older than her – in his early twenties I guess. She would babble about him for _hours_, until her father was about ready to off himself to "keep from hearing anymore damned girly details about this bloke"." I almost laugh, but can't quite manage it due to a wave of sadness that I never got to meet my grandfather. I could empathize with an excess of 'girly details'.

"I figured it wouldn't last long; Annabelle had dated some other fellows from around the area and it never turned out to be anything impacting. She was too much a free spirit, always wanting something new and never quite grounded in reality. Most men could only put up with her for so long.

"But she swore up and down that this one was different. She _loved_ him, she told us one night. Jeff – your granddad – nearly choked over dinner at that." Gran pauses and smiles in amusement, completely lost in her memories now. I smile slightly as well, thinking about that. I try to imagine Summer as a teenager, telling me she's in love with some Muggle man I've never met, but I can't do it. The only image of my daughter I have is the one of her sleeping soundly in the other room, tiny and beautiful, as she should be.

"I still didn't realize how serious it was, of course. I was happy that she was happy, and that was enough for a long time. When two months had passed, and Anna still came home every night chattering about this man, it started to occur to me that maybe this one _was_ different.

"If I was just speculating before, I was positive when one night – it was in the winter, I think – she oh-so-casually informed us that she would be bringing this man home for dinner the next night. You can imagine how well her father took it – nearly inhaled half a chicken leg, I tell you." She shakes her head, smiling, and I can't hold back a small laugh.

"He was charming all right – and handsome too. Perfect manners, clean, helpful – everything any parents would ever want for their only daughter. And he seemed sincere; the way he looked at Annabelle made me think he could be in it for the long run. It was hard to contain my excitement; after all those failed relationships – and granted, there weren't _that_ many, but teenage girls make such a big deal about everything, and every break-up was a horrifying repetition of the first one – she had finally found what seemed like the _perfect man_."

I think hard on that. If he was so wonderful, as sincere as Gran thought he was…what changed? Why did he abandon us? I don't voice my questions though, as she's already continuing with the story I've been waiting my entire life to hear.

"I'd never seen Annabelle so happy before. She'd come home absolutely _glowing_. Sometimes she wouldn't come home until all hours of the night, which worried her father near to death of course, but I wasn't overly concerned. I trusted her to make good decisions, or at the very least to be responsible. Which of course, was my first mistake." Gran laughs somewhat bitterly, and I realize that we're finally getting around to _me_. She casts me a sidelong glance, and her expression immediately turns apologetic. I wonder what she sees in my face.

"Not to mean I think you were a mistake, dear," she assures me, though I wasn't even thinking that until now.

"I'm fine; keeping going," I insist, wanting her to continue. She gives me one of those exasperated looks of hers and starts up again.

"They'd been dating for nearly seven months – an all time record for Annabelle. It was May, I suppose; spring was just getting into full swing, I remember. Jeff had fallen asleep like a baby because Anna had come home unusually early the night before. I of course knew that was reason enough to worry about her – she never came home early. Sometimes she didn't even come home at all. She was practically living with the man; the only time she seemed to be home was when he was busy or working.

"I tried to tell myself that it was nothing. Maybe he had to work a night shift or something; I didn't know what his schedule was. But when she didn't get up at a reasonable time – she was still in bed at noon, which was unusual for her, as she was normally the first one up and about, eager to start the day – I knew something was wrong."

_Well at least I know where I got _that _trait, _I think a little grudgingly, hating to admit to having anything in common with my mother.

"I knocked on her door, but she didn't answer, so I walked in. She was lying in bed, awake, just staring at the ceiling with this utterly distraught look on her face. When she saw me, she completely broke down into tears.

"I remember thinking that maybe he had broken up with her, or they'd had a fight, or he'd cheated on her or something. I was completely prepared to sit down and hold her while she cried over _another_ guy, telling her again and again how if he was going to let her get away, then he didn't deserve her. It was a speech I had well-memorized.

"So when she looked at me, tears running down her face, and said, "Mum, I'm pregnant," I was taken completely by surprise. I didn't _have_ a baby speech. I had a break-up speech, a cheating speech, a fight speech, even a he-turned-out-to-be-gay speech. But not a baby speech," she murmured, looking down. It hits me how she must have felt when I told her about Danni: probably as though history was repeating itself rather cruelly.

"We figured it had been almost a month since … well, _you_ came along, I suppose," she continues, shooting me a wry smile. "We went to see a Muggle doctor – because of course we had to take _him _with us; Anna wouldn't hear a word against him, completely convinced she was at fault and he could take no blame. I didn't quite agree, but I never let on. Besides, he was a nice enough man, and I really didn't have anything else against him.

"Being the man he was, he of course insisted on being part of everything. After the initial shock wore off, and Jeff was no longer ready to curse him on sight, we were all even rather looking forward to … _you_. He told us that he'd always wanted to be a dad; he'd never had any siblings growing up, and he wanted a large family. Anna sort of blanched at that thought, having never shown much interest in children herself, but she never breathed a word about it.

"They moved in together a few weeks before you were born. He was of course ecstatic when you came along. Actually…the way you handle Summer reminds me a lot of him. He never wanted to put you down," she says with a fond smile, and I find myself warming the tiniest bit to this unknown man who's never been there for me.

"It all seemed like some perfect happily-ever-after for a long time. Anna was completely enchanted with you – she would spend hours just staring at you in awe, and as you got older, she would play would you endlessly.

"I'm not sure she ever really had much of maternal instinct though; she seemed to view you more as the little brother she never really knew to hope for. All of the real parenting was left to your father; Anna would spend all day with you, playing, spoiling you, loving you. She'd do minimal dirty work like changing you or something, but most of it she pawned off on your dad, claiming that he needed to spend "quality time" with you or something.

"You were almost three years old, and I was starting to believe that they could really make this work. They weren't married yet, but they'd discussed it, and decided to just wait and see a little longer. I've always secretly wondered if Anna was afraid to make that big of a commitment. You know she's never settled down with anyone since…"

I nod, remembering the guy waiting outside her hotel room the last time I saw her and feeling a surge of hatred toward that second unknown man. I try to push it down though as Gran starts speaking again.

"Things were going so perfectly … until Jeff died. It was a sudden thing – a heart attack, even though he wasn't really that old. The Healers said it was a combination of stress – he'd been having some hard times with employees at work – high blood pressure – a constant problem since Anna had found out she was pregnant – and too much exertion – working as an Auror was tough on him."

I make a mental note to ask Ron or Harry if they'd ever known an Auror named Jeff Parks. It occurs to me that they might even have had something to do with those troublesome employees Gran mentioned, though of course I don't say anything.

"Anna was devastated. She stopped eating, and she'd wake up screaming when she got sleep at all. She started ignoring everyone – even you. It had the worst effect on you; you didn't understand what had happened or why your mummy was suddenly treating you like you were part of the décor. Your father didn't know what to do with her; she'd spend all day lying in bed, utterly depressed.

"We figured she had to get over it eventually. She'd come round, and everything would be almost normal again. But we didn't understand how deep her problem ran. It didn't get better – it got worse. She became a total introvert, barely speaking, never leaving the house.

"It took over a year for her to even gain some semblance of a normal routine. She never wanted to talk about her father, so of course we couldn't help her. She started fighting with your dad all the time – they'd get into such fierce screaming matches that neighbors would call me to come get you, and I'd have to take you away for the night, or sometimes even days on end.

"This lasted for almost nine months. And then, it was as though she'd had a sudden change of attitude. She suddenly started agreeing to everything everyone said; she got a job; she started paying attention you. I started to believe things would go back to normal.

"And they almost were. For four months anyway. And then one night, I got this phone call from her. She was crying, and she claimed your father had left her. I tried to talk to her, calm her down, but she got angry with me. She started yelling at me, telling me I was a horrible mother, and that I'd never been there for her, and she never wanted to see my face again. She said I was a bad influence and that I wouldn't be allowed to see you anymore."

I feel a chill take over my body at this, realizing instantly that this was when she decided to take me to the Weasleys'. I wonder if it was all an elaborate plan, or if my dad really did leave us. I'm starting to doubt the story I've been fed all my life.

"When I asked what she meant by that, she told me she was taking you far away and that she would never speak to me again. She hung up and has kept her word to this very day. I never did find out what I did to make her so angry," Gran finishes sadly, staring at a photograph on her bedside table. I look at it to see the younger version of my mother grinning at the camera with a little baby in her arms, and I realize with a shock that it's _me_ and she looks so … _happy_.

"I want to find him," I whisper, my eyes still on the photo. Out of the corner of my eye I see Gran cast me a sharp look, but I ignore that. "You never told me his name," I mention, and she sighs in what sounds like disappointment.

"Nicholas Foster. You'll be wanting his address next, I suppose." She says it sarcastically, but it catches my attention.

"You know his address?" Her expression sours, but she reaches over and grabs a spare scrap of paper from her beside table and scribbles something on it before handing it to me. I stare at the simple address. It's barely an hour away by car. He's been only an hour away for an entire year? And all I had to do was ask?

I find myself suddenly abruptly furious. Furious at Gran for never telling me this. Furious at Mum for taking me away from Gran, who obviously loved me so much and would have done anything for us. Furious at _myself_ for never thinking to ask. But most of all, I find myself furious at my unknown father – this Nicholas Foster – for never bothering to try to find me. And I have every intention to go give him a piece of my mind about it.

Gran looks startled when I stand up, though I'm sure it's more because of my expression than my movement.

"Jake, what are you doing? I'm not done yet."

"I don't care. I have a house call to make," I snap, crumpling the address in my fist. She stares at me, suddenly alarmed.

"Jake, sit down, there's something you don't-" But it's too late. I'm already spinning around on my heel, on my way to finally, _finally_ find the man I once called my dad.**

* * *

A/N**: Alright! We're FINALLY getting back to the whole reason for this story in the first place! Yes! I finally pull it off ONE chapter from the end! Am I good or what?

So I need your help, guys. I need title ideas for story number four. It might be better to wait until after next chapter to suggest them, but start thinking now, and feel free to suggest anything that comes to mind anyway – I can always decide for myself if it works or not. So, scrap what I said before – bring on the suggestions! _–brings out a giant, metaphorical suggestion box-_

I'll give you a better idea about what will be going on in the fourth story at the end of next chapter, as I don't want to give anything away yet.

There _will_ be a Jake/Aria reunion in the next one, which of course will cause all sorts of mayhem. And I have a billion and one subplots I have to tie up – Kaitlyn will of course have to learn about the magical world. We have to find out where Kay's crush on Sean will go and whether or not Sean will ever get over Skyla, who will definitely reappear next story.

We have the whole Lecksi/Adam thing that probably seemed really random to you. We of course have poor Drew, who never had his chance with Aria (and never will, sorry to say; they're just not compatible).

There will be plenty of 'aww' moments with Summer, whose age is not yet determined (I have to work out at timeline). We get to see Aria's reaction to Summer (though of course, even _I_ don't know what it is yet, as I've revised the chapter this happens in a million times and get a different result every time).

We have a few issues with Al going on, as his relationship with Aria will have progressed considerably since the final chapter of story three.

You may be getting a special tour of the mind of Annabelle Parks, and _her_ version of the story Jake's grandmother told (it's not that different; there are just more details, and we find out the reasons behind what she did). You might find yourself sympathizing with her without meaning to (I was shocked when she gave me this insight into her mind; it made me like her, which is weird, because before I really disliked her as a character; that now means that Craig is the only character I've ever created that I truly hate).

Speaking of Craig, I want to know what you all think of me killing him (the character not the asshole from English class last year). I might slip a little epilogue at the end of this where he randomly dies or something… Comments?

Sorry this is so long. I just really want everyone's input to see what you're all expecting from the fourth (finally final) installment of Family Ties. So, title ideas first. Please review! Thank you! And if you actually read all of this, hats off to you because you got a preview of FT4!

I'll try to have the next chapter out soon. Really. No more than two weeks, I promise. I know that seems like forever, but school is really dragging me down. It all depends on how "generous" the teachers are next week with homework.

Okay, I'm really done now. Don't forget: title ideas! Thanks!

Always serving you the story you deserve because you're all so awesome,  
Megan


	35. A Place to Belong

**A/N**: Oh sad! Last chapter! But it's a good one! And long too. Aren't you proud of me? I now you'll all love it, because I do. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Five: A Place to Belong**

Jake

The house I appear in front of isn't anything fancy. I glance around quickly to make sure I haven't been spotted – wouldn't want to break the Statute of Secrecy or anything like that – before turning to study the home more thoroughly.

It seems harmless. It's a plain brick house, two stories, black shutters, a little lawn. There's a black car parked in the driveway, something nondescript that wouldn't draw more attention than deserved. I stare at the front door uncertainly though, unwilling to get any closer. All of my burning anger seems to have abandoned me.

The longer I stare at the house, the sadder I start to feel. Unbidden, the thought that this could have been _my_ house creeps into my mind, and I suddenly start seeing things I like about it.

The front walk up to the door isn't perfectly straight like it is at Gran's – it curves through the yard, not seeming to follow a particular path. There's a large tree at the corner of the property, shading most of the small front lawn, making the entire place look more inviting. Gran's house doesn't have any trees in front of her house, which has always seemed to make it more intimidating for some reason. The front door is red – not bright red or anything, more like a burgundy, but I like it. Gran's front door is white, matching every other speck of trim in the house.

Any one of these things would have made the place good enough; all of them combined seem to make it perfect. I start up the brick pathway to the front door, determination winning out over all of my other emotions.

I barely hesitate when I reach the front steps. I take a deep breath and press the doorbell. I can hear it echoing throughout the house, ruining my impression of the tiny, coziness I've been imagining inside.

As I wait for someone to come get the door, I suddenly find myself wondering what the hell I think I'm doing. There must have been a reason my father – this _Nicholas Foster_ – left; if he didn't want anything to do with me then, what would make him want me now? This is a mistake. I should leave.

Panicking, I start to turn to leave, suddenly very grateful that no one has answered the door yet. I'm not quite down the front steps however, when I hear a voice behind me, and I freeze.

"Can I help you?"

I turn to see a willowy blonde woman standing in the doorway, looking at me with a curious, though slightly guarded look on her face. My pulse takes off double-time, and I'm instantly at a loss for words.

"I-I…"

"Yes?" she asks a bit impatiently, looking like she'd enjoy shutting the door in my face right now. I take another deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Does Nicholas Foster live here?" I ask, just to make sure. She stares at me suspiciously.

"What do you want with him?" she asks evasively, but by her tone I can tell that he's here. Following the pattern of my rapidly changing emotions, I'm immediately desperate to see him.

"Can I see him? I'm … I mean, I really need to talk to him," I say. I instinctively feel that telling this woman I'm Nicholas's son would be a mistake, so I don't say anything more.

She glares at me as though needing to talk to his man is personally offending to her. "I'll go get him," she says shortly, shutting the door. I can hear her footsteps ringing against the floor as she walks away.

They make me wait so long that I'm nearly ready to give up after seven minutes of standing there, feeling like an idiot. Two minutes after that I decide that if I'm going to be here much longer, I might as well be comfortable, so I settle onto the concrete step to wait.

After nearly fifteen minutes of waiting – during which time I note that there's actually a tree house up in that big tree; I feel a twinge of jealousy toward whoever it belongs to, as Ron would never let Sean and I have one, afraid we'd fall and kill ourselves or something, as if we weren't endangering our lives playing Quidditch every day anyway – a loud sigh accompanies the sound of the door opening behind me.

I jump up, nervous again, my heart hammering against my ribs once more. But it's just the same woman as before, still glaring at me distrustfully.

"He's busy," she says coldly. "He doesn't have time."

I can't even feel offended at her rudeness. Desperation takes over again. "Please," I beg, unwilling to leave. "Please, it's really important. I've been waiting for so long…" I trail off, staring at her pleadingly. She huffs slightly, looking annoyed.

"Wait here."

It doesn't take nearly as long this time. Barely two minutes pass before she's opening the door again.

"What do you want with him?" she asks impatiently. I bite my lip. I can't just _tell _her.

"It's…private," I try, but she looks unmoved. "Tell him… tell him my name is Jake. And I'm not leaving until I speak to him." I don't know if it will help or not. Nothing in her expression changes, but she turns and walks off again, this time forgetting to shut the door. I stare down the hallway after her uncertainly.

The hall is dark, and I can feel cool air flowing out of it, a nice respite from the hot summer sun. The floors are some sort of dark wood, polished to a shine, very unlike the dull, lighter wood of the floor in Ron and Keira's house. The walls are dark as well, and I can see the outlines of four matching black picture frames hanging in a perfectly spaced diamond farther down.

There are doors lining the left side of the hallway as well, all of them shut. The staircase leading up to the second floor is immediately to the left on the way inside, and I can just catch glimpses of a sitting room off to the right. At the very end of the hall is another door, presumably leading out to the back yard, and I can see the very edge of the kitchen counter to the left of the back door.

I'm not sure I like this dark, cold house. Gran's house is the most severe contrast – warm, definitely, but also completely white inside. I hadn't ever realized it was so bright before now. And the Weasleys' house was always painted such warm colors – soft browns and yellows, or off-whites. Nothing like this.

Before I have time to evaluate anything else, a door opens halfway down the hall. The woman steps out, looking worried. She casts me a strange look before disappearing farther into the house. A few seconds later a man emerges from the open doorway.

He scowls in annoyance as he makes his way toward me, and I shrink back automatically, nervous and shy all of a sudden.

"What do you want, kid?" he growls when he gets closer. I don't know what to say. I can only stare at him, shocked and unexplainably fearful of this tall, dark man. He peers at me just as suspiciously at the woman, squinting down at me.

"You're Nicholas Foster?" I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. He rolls his eyes, and I take that as a yes.

"Yes, I'm the man you've been annoying the hell out of for the last half hour. _What do you want?_"

"I'm Jake," I start, earning myself one of those 'do-you-think-I'm-stupid?' looks. I wince.

"We've covered this already. You have yet to tell me what you're doing on my doorstep. I'm busy, and I have a lot of work to do," he snaps.

"My mother's name is Annabelle Parks," I whisper. His expression changes abruptly, and he's suddenly staring at me in shock. I start to hope that maybe I've gotten through to him, but the shock quickly evolves into anger.

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" he demands, his face clouding. "Did she send you here just to mess with me or something?"

"Huh?" I'm confused. Why would Mum want to mess with him? _I_ don't want to mess with him; he seems almost dangerous.

"This isn't funny. You can go home now, kid. I'm not interested."

What does that mean? I feel my heart drop. Mum _was_ telling the truth; he wants nothing to do with me. I start to turn away, disappointment spreading through me, cancelling out the initial confusion and surprise.

"Sorry for bothering you," I murmur, my shoulders slumping. I shouldn't have come. I try to remember why I even wanted to find him in the first place, but I can't remember anymore.

"Wait." His hand catches my shoulder, and I flinch, but he doesn't let go. I look up at him, trying to keep my face expressionless. He stares at me cautiously, seeming to study my face for a long, tense moment.

"Are you really Jacob Parks?" he demands. I nod, trying to squash the hope rising up again. It won't do me any good; he doesn't want me.

"Your mother is really Annabelle?" I just nod again. He glares at me.

"If you're lying about this, I swear to God, I'll-"

"Why would I lie about it?" I mumble, feeling a twinge of indignation. A thoughtful expression crosses his face.

"I'm not sure," he says, more to himself than anything. I just wait. Finally, he looks at me again. "Really?" he asks, this time more hopeful than demanding, sounding rather like a child receiving an unexpected privilege.

"Yeah," I say, half shrugging. "Really."

"Come inside," he says, suddenly brusque. He turns and stalks down the hall, and I follow immediately, shutting the door behind me. I feel a sliver of unease at the sudden darkness, but I push it away, turning into the still-open door after Nicholas Foster – my _father_.

He turns back to face me once we're inside, his face very different than that of five minutes ago.

"Do you realize that I've believed you to be dead for _fourteen years?_" he asks, his face urgent and distraught. Completely unrelated to him, I feel a surge of resentment toward my mother, who couldn't even be bothered to remember my birthday, while this man has been keeping track of the years all this time. Then his words sink in, and I stare at him.

"Dead?" I echo, confused again. "I'm not dead."

He laughs slightly. "Well, I can see that." I manage half a smile back at him.

"Why did you think I was dead?" I ask, tilting my head. Something in his eyes flickers at my movement, but it's gone quickly, and he's talking before I can wonder what it was.

"You were…kidnapped," he says carefully, eyeing me as though afraid I'll break down or something. I can't stop the laugh from escaping, though I feel bad about it.

"Kidnapped?" I ask in disbelief. I can't help grinning at him, but when he continues staring at me sadly, the smile fades. "She told you that?" I ask, understanding with a feeling of dread, clinging to a small hope that I'm wrong.

"She came home from a trip to the city one day absolutely distraught. Said you'd gotten separated from her in a store, and that she couldn't find you anywhere. We waited a week; when no word came, we assumed the worst. The next day she was gone, and I haven't seen her since," he says stiffly.

I know my mum is vindictive and horrible. I just haven't realized how much so until now. Nicholas Foster stares at me sadly, and I stare back in disbelief.

He's the first one to break the silence. "I…I can't believe she would…"

"I can," I interrupt harshly, sneering unintentionally at the thought of my mother. I laugh humorlessly. "You know, I grew up knowing she was an irresponsible, vindictive, lying _bitch_," I start, and he flinches slightly again at the anger in my voice, "but for some reason, I never questioned her version of how I ended up with the Weasleys. I should have known from the start that it was all another lie," I say softly, sadness welling up inside of me again. I swallow against the lump in my throat.

"Weasleys?" he asks, looking puzzled. I smile; it must sound like a strange, made-up word to him; he doesn't realize how the Weasley family is known pretty much everywhere in the wizarding world.

"The family she left me with," I explain. Understanding dawns before quickly turning to anger.

"She just _left_ you with some random family?" he asks. I feel instantly defensive of the people I consider my _own_ family.

"No; she knew them – or, Keira anyway. She didn't know Ron, I guess. She and Keira had been friends once, I think. They're good people; they kept me and raised me. They loved me," I object, and he seems taken aback by how emotional I am about them.

"At least they were there," I continue, almost spitting the words at him, angry again. "They remembered my birthdays and made sure I had presents on Christmas. They treated me like I belonged. They never abandoned me."

"Jacob, _I_ never abandoned you," Nicholas says softly.

"You didn't exactly send out a search party for me either," I remind him, and he winces.

"I thought you were _dead!_" he exclaims.

"You just gave up on me!" I yell back. "You never even _tried!_ I thought you _hated_ me."

He stares at me, open-mouthed. "How…did you really believe that?"

"I was _five_. I didn't know that my mother was a conniving liar with her own agenda. I just wanted my parents back," I tell him, and guilt washes over his face.

"The Weasleys are the only family I have ever known," I continue quietly. "I love them."

Nicholas Foster stares at me for so long that I start to wonder if he's about to kick me out or something. Finally he steps forward. I take a step away from him automatically, but his expression softens, and he continues forward. I eye him warily as he steps up in front of me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?" he whispers, and I'm absolutely floored at the sight of tears in his eyes. "How many nights I've stayed up, wondering if you were alive, if you were okay, somewhere out there still, scared and lonely? Do you know how many kids your age I've looked at in the streets, wondering if they could be you? Can you even comprehend how much I love you, Jacob, even after all this time?"

"No," I whisper back. "But I know how much _I've_ missed _you_; does that count?"

He lets out a small chuckle. "It counts for everything, son." He pulls me into a one-armed hug. It doesn't last long, but it's enough for me. It's more than I could have ever hoped for.

.x.

"What sort of work are you doing?"

I grimace at the question. "Nothing life-changing," I say reluctantly. "I work at a bookstore."

Clara Foster laughs at my expression, and Nick shoots her a look. We've been sitting at their dining room table for twenty minutes, and they've been questioning me almost nonstop.

It took a few minutes for Nicholas to explain everything to his wife, and to introduce us. She apparently already knew about me, so we just had to fill her in on the fact that – _surprise!_ – I wasn't actually dead, and that my mother was a vindictive bitch who thought only of herself (though of course he phrased it much more politely).

Clara seemed to take an instant liking to me after that – she apologized immediately for treating me so coldly before and practically tied me to my chair and nearly force-fed me her homemade bread – which I have to admit is really, really good.

So far, we haven't gotten to any really important questions – we haven't come anywhere close to the fact that I'm a wizard, which Nick is probably already aware of anyway, and I haven't mentioned Summer or Danni yet.

"Tell me more about these Weasleys," Nick says now, and I wince. I don't want to talk about them. "I want to know more about these people who raised my son," he adds, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at him.

"They're great," I say dismissively. Clara casts me a speculating glance, and I try not to make a face.

"That doesn't tell me much," Nick says with obvious disapproval.

I sigh. "What more do you want to know?" I ask a bit more harshly than intended. He frowns, searching my face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie automatically. "I'm fine." I've been telling people that for three weeks now, and it just comes naturally to my lips. Neither Nick or Clara look as though they believe me. I notice them exchanging a glance, and I feel a flicker of annoyance.

"Let's talk about something else," Clara suggests gently, laying a hand on her husband's arm as he opens his mouth to continue questioning me. He nods, looking reluctant at the change of subject.

Clara turns to me and smiles, her kind eyes glinting playfully. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

I feel the blood drain out of my face at her question, and I have to swallow against another rapidly growing lump in my throat. I fix my gaze on the dark wooden tabletop, following the grains in the wood to keep my eyes busy.

"Jacob?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I say hollowly, refusing to look up at them. I can just imagine the bewildered looks they're giving each other, and it only causes another wave of grief to wash over me.

"What happened?" Leave it to a woman to keep talking after you've made it clear that you don't want to discuss something. I know I'm being unfair to Clara, but it's hard to think straight as that final vision of Danni lying in that hospital bed swims in front of my eyes.

"Nothing," I say in an extremely unconvincing tone. I grimace slightly at how … _dead_ my voice sounds.

"Jake…" Clara's cool hand reaches out and touches mine, and I jerk it away reflexively. From my peripheral vision I see that she doesn't move her hands from their extended position. I put my own hands in my lap.

"Jacob, is everything alright?"

I swallow again, not blinking, tears burning my eyes. "No, I don't have a girlfriend," I say, trying to keep my tone level, but my voice shakes, giving me away. I clench my teeth.

"Did something happen?" asks Clara, her voice soft and careful. I still can't look at them. I just shrug, knowing that if they have any experience with kids, they'll take it as a yes, the way adults always seem to.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Nick asks just as carefully. I wonder randomly if they have any daughters, as they sound rather as though they're trying to comfort a girl whose boyfriend just broke up with her. If the sight of Danni wasn't still burned across my vision, I would laugh at the comparison.

"It's a long story," I murmur. I chance a quick peek at their faces. Clara is staring at me with a very understanding, almost pitying expression, and Nick is just waiting. I sigh, looking back at the table.

"Don't jump to conclusions," I warn them before I start, knowing that to tell the story correctly, I have to start way back before my first year at Hogwarts, when I met Aria. They nod agreeably, so I take a deep breath and start off.

I explain all about how Aria fell on top of me the first time we met, editing the story slightly so that she's tripping over me coming in the door rather than shooting out of a magical fireplace. They both laugh slightly at that, and it brings the tiniest of smiles to my face.

Before explaining about Hogwarts, I bite my lip and glance at Nick. Surely he knows about the magical world if he was involved with my mum for so long. But does Clara? I shoot a look at her to see her waiting patiently for me to continue. I take a leap, deciding she would find out sooner or later anyway.

"How much do you know about magic?" I ask Nick directly. I can see a perplexed expression take over Clara's face out of the corner of my eye, but Nicholas is staring at me thoughtfully.

"Only what Anna shared with me," he says, shrugging. I wait for more, not sure exactly how much she shared with him. He must understand this, because he keeps going. "I don't know. I mean, she told me how her mum taught her; she showed me some stuff every now and then. It seemed like a very easy solution to most problems."

"What on earth are you two talking about?" asks Clara, looking thoroughly confused now, and slightly skeptical as well.

Nick sighs. "If you would just go along with this for now, I promise Jacob will explain later," he says. I have to smile at him making promises for me, though I nod in agreement. Clara shrugs and rolls her hands to tell me to continue. I sigh.

"Most…magical kids go to a boarding school called Hogwarts when they're eleven," I start. I continue to explain my first year of Hogwarts with Aria and Sean, and how Aria seemed so determined to find out something about her father. I tell about the strange, awkward Christmas we shared, and how I overheard Ron and Harry discussing Ron's lingering love for Aria's mum. Clara's eyes widen in surprise, and I nearly smile again. It does sound sort of like some sort of soap opera.

I skip over most of the rest of the school year, fast forwarding to the day Aria's mum died … _in a car accident, _I think, unable to miss the irony. I feel my voice harden while I talk about that, and I see my father and his wife exchanging another concerned glance.

"Aria had a really tough summer that year," I say softly, remembering how angry and depressed she was. "It was hard for her to adjust to living with us, especially after finding out that one of her best friends was actually her brother. She seemed to prefer Sean's company to mine though, at least for those few weeks." I don't go into the sort of history they have in common, which I figured out later was probably why Sean was so understanding of Aria that summer.

"I've sort of always felt something … _more_ than just friendship for Aria," I say softly, staring hard at the table again. "I never _dreamed_ she felt the same way," I say with a bitter laugh, glancing up at Nicholas once more. "I thought she was too good for me. I thought she deserved someone better than me." _Turns out I was right._

I shake my head, sighing. "Last summer… I don't know. Right before school let out, I suddenly decided… I wanted to find you," I tell him, and his expression softens slightly. "I didn't tell Aria right away, especially not after Sean told me she wanted to spend all summer with me. Eventually I had to though...tell her I mean. She… didn't take it so well," I sigh.

Remembering Aria's pleas not to leave, I feel my stomach twist uncomfortably. I wince and put my head in my hands.

"I _love_ her," I say quietly, hating myself for it; for all the heartache I've caused her. "And she…" I trail off, remembering Aria's last desperate attempt to get me to come home after telling her about Danni. _She said she loved me_. I shake my head and start the story again.

"I had to go though. I mean… I've spent _fourteen years_ not knowing who my father is," I whisper. "So I left. She was … heartbroken. I felt so awful… But then… man, then I _really _screwed up," I moan.

"What happened?" Clara asks, her voice all hushed and eager. I bite my lip to keep from snapping at her that my life isn't a juicy book or one of her favorite television programs around for her enjoyment.

"I made things so much worse," I say quietly, not able to meet their gaze. "I went to go see Mum, which in itself was a mistake-" I pause to allow for Nick's snort of amusement before continuing, "- and I found a picture of her mum… and sort of accidentally ended up Apparating right into her front lawn."

"Apparating?" asks Clara, puzzled again. Nicholas waves a hand at her dismissively.

"Later." He nods at me to keep going.

"Gran was – _is_ – really good to me." I see both of their eyebrows raise at my correction, but they say nothing. "She gave me a place to sleep, and she's pretty much been taking care of me for an entire year. Anway, she had-" I have to swallow again at the past tense, blinking hard, "-this neighbor girl – Danni – and I … we got to be pretty good friends. And then … more than friends. Anyway, one day, Gran was out, and Danni and I kind of fooled around …" I shake my head and groan.

"And Aria found out?" Nick guesses. I nearly laugh. If only it were that simple.

"Worse," I say softly. Both sets of eyebrows pull together in a 'how-could-it-get-worse' expression. "I got her pregnant," I whisper, looking down. I hear Clara gasp, and Nicholas inhales sharply. I clamp my teeth together, emotions running amuck; old feelings mingling with still fresh ones, causing a big whirl of pain and confusion. I focus all of my energy on not crying.

"Well," says Nick, his voice slightly higher than before. "_Well._"

"Yeah," I mumble. "I…I went back to tell Ron…after I found out. Aria overheard."

"I bet that was an interesting conversation," Clara says, the softest edge of sarcasm in her voice. I frown unhappily.

"She wanted me to come home. She wanted me to _abandon_ Danni. And then she told me she loved me," I whisper.

"Vindictive," Nick murmurs, and my eyes snap to his face, defensive, my rebuke already on my tongue. He sees my expression and backtracks immediately. "She just wanted you home; I get it. I'm sorry if I offended you." I watch him staring at me worriedly, as though suddenly afraid I'll storm out in anger. Fat chance of that.

"So… what happened to Danni?" asks Clara. I feel my expression close down automatically. With my eyes on the wooden surface of the table, I can just see the speculative look in her eyes as she watches me.

"She died," I say tonelessly. Pity fills her expression again, and it surprises me when I don't feel any resentment towards her because of it.

"When?" Nick asks gently. I grit my teeth, refusing to blink again.

"Three weeks ago."

"Oh." That's all Clara says. But that tiny word is filled with so much emotion and sympathy that it causes tears to come rushing to my eyes. I blink against them, but several manage to escape anyway. I don't bother to wipe them away.

"What about the-the… I mean, your…" Nick trails off awkwardly. He means Summer. The thought of her makes me smile, just a little.

"Her name's Summer," I tell him, and both of them relax visibly. I can tell they'd assumed the worst.

"Where… where is she?" asks Clara, looking at me searchingly as though I've got her hidden in my coat or something…if I was wearing a coat that is. I smile at that thought.

"At home with Gran. And probably with Kaitlyn as well." I explain about working with Kate at the bookstore, and how she treats me like a little brother. They exchange a smile, and I can't help doing the same.

"Well, we'll just have to meet those two, won't we?" Nick says with a grin. I smile back, relief and warmth spreading throughout my chest, loosening the knots hardened there by grief and pain. He wants to be part of my life. Mum was lying. He _does_ care about me.

"And you'll have to meet your sisters," Clara adds, nudging her husband. He grins, nodding in agreement.

"Of course. They should actually be getting home from school any time now," he says, glancing at his watch.

"Sisters?" I ask, curious now. How many? How old? I almost laugh at my thought about them treating me like a daughter earlier. I was right after all.

"Erin and Grace," Clara says. "Erin's sixteen and Grace is ten."

"Speak of the devil," Nick exclaims as the sound of the front door opening drifts down the hall. "Girls?" The footsteps stop.

"Dad?" a voice calls back. I feel the tiniest sliver of jealousy toward the girl at how simple it is for her to address him that way. I don't know if I ever could; or if I would even be allowed to.

"Come in here a minute." Nick winks at me. "I want you two to meet someone."

I hear a slight grumbling from one, her sluggish footsteps starting down the hall, but the sound is soon overlapped by a quicker pattering. A small girl with dark brown hair comes running into the room. She stops suddenly at the edge of the room and slides the length of the dining room in her socks, grinning the entire time. She slips to a stop just beside my chair, and grins at me.

"Hi! I'm Grace!"

I have to laugh. She beams at me, and I can't help but notice her smile; it's rather like the one I used to see in the mirror every day. This only makes me smile more.

"What is it?"

I look up to see a taller, older, blonder girl leaning against the wall at the edge of the room, looking annoyed at having been delayed to escaping to her bedroom, I'm sure. She eyes me expressionlessly. I pick up on the obvious resemblance to her mother, as opposed to Grace's features, which are so much more like Nick's … and mine.

"Grace, Erin, I want you to meet someone very important," he starts off, and I have to work hard not to grin at him. His expression turns thoughtful for a moment. "Come sit down," he suggests. Grace takes the seat next to me immediately; I can't help but smile at her again. Erin rolls her eyes and meanders to a seat next to Clara, as far away from me as she can get. I try not to feel offended.

"Erin might already know this story-"

"So can I go?" she interrupts. Nick glares at her.

"No. It's still important. Now, when I was younger – before I knew your mum – I fell in love with a woman named Annabelle Parks," he starts off. Erin sighs loudly and slumps in her chair, looking bored out of her skull. Everyone ignores her.

Nick gives the abbreviated story of the one Gran told me, adding on the bit about believing me to be kidnapped and dead, and about Mum leaving him.

"And then who should show up on my doorstep today but Jacob Parks. My son. _Your_ brother. I bet you didn't even know you had a brother," he finishes, talking to Grace now. She shakes her head, her eyes wide. Then she glances at me.

"You're my brother?" she asks, and I can't stop the chuckle from escaping. She grins.

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" I say. She looks up at me with innocent gray eyes, full of a familiar, complete trust that I don't feel I've earned, and my thoughts flash to Summer, asleep and safe back home.

"I've always wanted a brother," she informs me. "I think it would be nicer than having a sister," she adds.

"Grace!" Clara scolds. The girl just shrugs. I'm reminded of Abby Weasley, though of course by now she's nearly fourteen years old. It makes me sad to think that I'll miss her birthday again this year.

"Cool. Whoo-hoo. I'm totally psyched. Yay. Is that all you wanted?" Erin asks, already getting up. Clara sighs, and Nick rolls his eyes. Grace doesn't even glance at her, and I deduce that this is normal behavior for Erin Foster.

"You can go," Nick says, and she walks off without even looking at me. I try to ignore it.

"You'll get used to her," Grace says confidently, slipping her little hand into mine. "Can I show him my room?" she asks. Clara shrugs, and Nicholas nods. She jumps up, pulling at my arm earnestly.

"Come _on_, Jacob!" she urges. I have to laugh again. I comply and allow her to drag me up the stairs. I can hear Nick following behind, and I turn my head to grin at him. He smiles back in amusement.

The upstairs is a major contrast to the first floor. Instead of dark wallpaper, the walls are painted a calm mint green, and there's a light tan carpet instead of hardwood floors. Grace pulls me into the first door on the right, and I feel as though I've stepped into a giant lavender bubble. Everything is purple, from the carpet on the floor to the light fixture on the ceiling.

"Is purple your favorite color?" I ask as she leads me over to the bed and attempts to shove me into a sitting position. I hear Nick chuckle from the doorway, and I shoot a look at him; he only laughs harder.

"Yes, how did you know?" Grace asks in all seriousness, but I can see the playfulness in her eyes. I grab her and tickle her stomach. She dances away, giggling.

"You're way more fun than my sister," she informs me. She turns to look at her – _our_ father all of a sudden. "Is Jacob going to move in with us?" she asks, tilting her head to one side. I have to hide a smile at our shared habit, and I suddenly understand the flicker of emotion that went through Nicholas's eyes earlier when I did the same thing.

He looks up at me, and I realize what Grace just asked. I feel my face heat up slightly, wanting to admonish the girl for bringing up such awkward topics. But she wouldn't know any better.

"I don't know, Gracie. That's sort of up to him," he says carefully. I stare at him. Is he really inviting me to live with them after only knowing me for a couple hours? He raises his eyebrows in question.

Grace turns to me, her eyes pleading. "Oh, please, Jacob? Will you stay? Then you can see me _every day_ and we can do all sorts of fun things together! Haven't you always wanted a little sister, huh, Jacob? Please?"

I laugh and ruffle her hair playfully. She doesn't duck away like Abby used to. She just keeps looking at me hopefully. I look back at Nick.

"I dunno, Grace."

"It's fine with me," he murmurs. I manage half a smile at him.

"Maybe we should get to know each other a little better first," I suggest. I see something like disappointment flit through his expression, but he just shrugs.

"Whatever you're comfortable with."

"I just don't want to completely bail on Gran. And Summer still doesn't sleep through the night; I wouldn't want to wake up the entire house or anything," I explain, the excuses jumping readily to mind.

"Summer? Whose that?" asks Grace, tilting her head again.

"My daughter. Bet you never guessed you'd get a brother and a niece at the same time," I say, and her eyes widen.

"You have a daughter? How old is she?" she asks eagerly. I imagine her envisioning her new best friend, and smile a little ruefully.

"She's only a couple months old; she's still really little. But I bet she'd like you."

Grace grins. "I want to see her! Dad, can we meet Summer?"

"Sure, we can meet Summer," Nick agrees easily, smiling at me. I nod.

"I'll bring her over sometime," I promise.

"Tomorrow!" Grace demands. Nick shoots her a warning look, but she doesn't see.

"Jacob might be busy tomorrow," he says, but I smile at them both.

"It's fine. I get off work at three thirty. I could be here by five. If that's okay with you." I tack the last part on as common courtesy, but Nick just shrugs.

"Fine. I have to work tomorrow as well, but Clara will be here. I should be home around five thirty or so. Will you eat with us?" he asks hopefully. I shrug.

"Sure."

"Yay!" Grace exclaims, throwing her arms around me. I freeze for a second before hugging her back, not used to such enthusiastic affection anymore. She hangs on for a long moment before finally releasing me.

"I _like_ having a big brother," she announces.

"Well that's good, 'cause I think he'll be sticking around for awhile," Nick says, chuckling. The warmth spreads from the top of my head all the way down to my toes at his words, and for the first time in weeks, I feel truly content.

I've finally found the place I belong.

* * *

**A/N**: Aw, it's over. No guarantees on when I'll get FT4 up and running. I want to do a total timeline/outline to start with, and then I have a little more detail planning I want to do. So it might be awhile. Plus, I really want to finish GFHH, as it's been ongoing for so long now. So don't gather the torches and pitchforks and hunt me down if it's not out for awhile. At this point it might not even be out until Christmas, if even then. I really want to take a break to focus on GFHH. It's been my secondary story for so long, and I want to get some real work done for it.

Okay. So, to add to all of the plot previews last chapter, we of course now have this new little family involved. And don't hate Erin; she's a typical moody teenager who just wants to escape up to her room after a long day at school. I can relate to her very closely. And who loves Grace? _I_ love Grace!

Funny thing about the family actually. Remember when I went on my name-explaining spiel, talking about how some characters' names were set from the start and some kept changing? Same thing here! Since the first time I wrote this scene, Clara's name has always been Clara, and every time I've tried to change Erin's name, I kept coming back to _Erin_, so I figured it was stuck that way (plus I like that name). Nick's name has been several common, run-of-the-mill names. It was Todd, and then Alexander (because that's Jake's middle name), and maybe something else. I'm not sure. And I've just never found a name for Grace that really stuck, until I was in the middle of writing this and I was like _oh! Cute little sister doesn't have a name!_ I thought of Grace first, and then I kind of wanted to change it to Mallory because I have a friend named Mallory, but it didn't work because I liked Grace too much. So yeah. Haha.

Okay. Well, I'd still appreciate title ideas for FT4. And any other little tidbits you'd like to see in the next story (I'm not guaranteeing I'll use them; I just want input).

Also, just because Maddie told me to (actually, I was already going to do it; I just asked whether she thought it was a good idea, and she did) I am posting an epilogue to this. I'm not sure when I'll get it out. If I can write fast, it'll probably appear only a few hours after this is posted. If not, it will be out next week, as I'll have absolutely no writing time between now and Sunday. So it's not _completely_ over yet.

Thanks for everything you guys. It's because of all of you that this story's gotten as far as it has. It started out as a nagging idea inspired by a song, and developed into these amazing characters who are currently running my life. Thanks so much for being such awesome reviewers and for giving me such positive and constructive feedback. I love you all!

Sincerely,  
AuthoressMegz  
-Megan


	36. Epilogue

**A/N**: The long-awaited epilogue. It doesn't have a title because I couldn't think of one good enough. Enjoy!

* * *

**Epilogue**

Nicholas Foster

Grace hasn't stopped bouncing all day. I swear that girl's entire body is made of nothing but pent-up energy. Though where she stores it all is beyond me; she's such a tiny thing.

Currently, she's bouncing (literally) across the living room, practically singing about getting to go see Summer and meeting Jacob's grandmother and Kaitlyn. I can't get upset with her though; I'm looking forward to it just as much as she is.

I never thought I'd ever get a second chance with Jacob. Though even after I'd decided he was gone forever, I never let go of that tiny little bubble of hope that he might be out there somewhere, searching for me, or at the very least happy and safe. There's no way I'm going to let my daughter's overly excited manner get to me.

We haven't seen Jacob since last week when he came for supper and brought Summer with him. Grace was of course enchanted immediately. After some pleading and whining, she convinced him to let her hold the baby, though I could see how difficult it was for him to allow it. She sat perfectly still on the sofa, an overstuffed pillow propping up each of her little arms, and Jacob carefully set Summer in them, his hands hovering protectively the entire time.

It's still weird to think that I'm a grandfather. Clara's been teasing me about it. So far I've been a good sport about it, but I've decided that if she does it again I'm going to remind her that _technically_ she's a grandmother now too. It would certainly take that smug smile off her face.

Actually, I don't even care. Clara can tease me all she likes. The fact of the matter is that I couldn't have dreamed of a better grandchild. She's … perfect. She never seems to cry, and she's very content with anyone holding her; she doesn't seem overly dismayed when Jacob hands her off to someone else. And to top it all off, she certainly is a pretty little girl.

Over supper last week, Jacob told us everything there was to know about his friend Kaitlyn, and Grace immediately declared she wanted to meet her. He just grinned and promised her he'd get right on that. Then yesterday he called – which I found a little odd, remembering how Anna had never even seen a telephone before we started dating, but I didn't say anything – inviting all of us to dinner at Diana's.

It's sort of strange though, knowing I'll be seeing her again for the first time in fourteen years. She was always the kind of mother I would have loved having growing up. She always seemed like so much fun.

I've written her a letter or two over the years, each time I moved, and then when I got married and when Grace was born. She usually replied with something that made it hard to write back; she never gave me any openings for conversation. It always seemed as though she wanted me to know that she appreciated my keeping in touch, but it was just too much for her to keep an ongoing correspondence. I understood it well enough; or at least I thought I did. I just figured it had a lot to do with Jacob. Now though, understanding what my son has told me about his own feelings toward his mum, I've rather changed perspective. Maybe it had nothing to do with him; maybe it had everything to do with the fact that Annabelle never kept in touch with her own mum, but _I_ did. I'm sure that had to hurt a little.

We never discussed Jacob in our letters. Again, at the time, I assumed it had to do with grief. Now I have to wonder if she knew all along that he was alive and safe with these Weasleys. Especially considering how _surprised_ Jacob seemed when I told him that he'd been presumed dead. If Diana had thought the same thing, he would have been expecting my reaction.

When I first thought of this explanation a few days ago, it made me furious. I was so angry I wanted to get in my car and drive down to her house and just _strangle _her for letting me think my son was dead all these years. But as I cooled down, and rational thought returned, I found it easier to understand. She'd lost her daughter beyond recall; I don't think she was quite ready to see me as often as she would have had I known about Jacob.

The sound of Grace screeching pulls me from my thoughts. In the front room I can hear Erin yelling at her sister, and Grace screaming back. I sigh and walk down the hall. Grace is sitting on the floor crying, holding her elbow. Erin is sitting in an armchair, one foot outstretched conspicuously, looking annoyed.

"Well I told you to stop!" she's saying now. Grace's face scrunches up angrily.

"I didn't _hear_ you," she wails. "And I hurt my elbow!" More tears fall down her cheeks. It's then that she takes notice of me. Immediately the tears start flowing more dramatically.

"Daddy, Erin _tripped_ me!" she screeches. "And I fell and banged my elbow on the corner of the table!"

"Let's not shout," I suggest, crouching down beside her. She lifts her elbow for inspection. It is indeed a bit red from where it hit the leg of the coffee table, but other than that there's no lasting damage. I bring her arm up and kiss it.

"Better?" I ask. She pouts, but nods obediently. I can't help but laugh slightly as I pull her into a hug.

"Don't trip your sister," I remind Erin before standing up. She rolls her eyes at me, and I take it for an affirmative answer.

Erin has to be the most resentful teenager I know. Then again, she's the _only _teenager I know, not including her numerous friends, though of course I don't _know_ them beyond the half-minute conversations we have whenever they come over.

I wish I knew how to talk to her sometimes. She's just so _confusing_. And I often wonder if it's _me_ she resents or the entire world. She can be particularly nasty at times; when she gets especially upset, she's wont to remind me that I'm not actually her father. It used to bother me – the first time she said it broke my heart. I've almost gotten used to it though. I can tell how much it annoys her when she _can't_ get a reaction out of me with it.

Erin was three when I met Clara. She was almost five by the time we were married, and was already in the habit of calling me 'Daddy' which was the most amazing feeling in the world at the time. I nearly cried the first time I heard it, and after that every time she said it reminded me so much of Jacob that I could barely stand it. It rather terrified Clara for awhile.

I've met Erin's "real father", as she'll refer to him when she's trying to irk me, a few times. He works for some huge corporation doing something that apparently makes a lot of money, and he travels quite a bit. He has a fancy townhouse in London that Erin goes to one weekend each month, and she always comes home with a new trinket.

Thane only came into our lives a few years ago though. Erin was ten the first time she met him, and to this day she doesn't call him 'Dad' except when she's talking directly at him, and even then sometimes she'll call him by his name. I think he would like her to call him Dad more often, but once – before she hated me – she confided in me that it made her feel a little awkward. I was secretly glad, as I've never taken a particularly strong liking to Thane Rockland.

The only thing that I've seen that has brought Erin out of her horrible attitude lately was when she got to hold Summer. She was even more careful than Grace, and for awhile she just sat there staring at the baby. After a moment or so everyone started up their conversations again – even Jacob had joined in, not as concerned about the possibility of Summer being dropped this time – and I noticed Erin relax without everyone's eyes on her.

It was so amazing. She just started talking to Summer. Not in a cutesy baby voice, telling her how adorable and perfect she was the way Clara did – I'll admit to doing it too – but like she was one of Erin's close friends. And a minute later this totally awed look came over her face, like she was finally starting to comprehend that the little child she held in her arms was her _niece_. I saw her glance at Jacob in a whole different way, and I _think_ that in that moment she started to accept and maybe (just maybe) _like_ her older brother.

"Daddy, are we leaving soon?" Grace asks, tugging on my pant leg from her position on the floor beside my chair. I smile down at her.

"As soon as Mum gets home," I assure her. Then, as if on cue, the door opens, and Clara walks through the door. Grace cheers, and Erin mutters "finally" under her breath.

Clara smiles at the (sort of) enthusiastic response. "Shall we?" she asks, still standing in the open door. Grace jumps up and runs to her side. Erin sighs and follows them outside.

.x.

"Daddy, are we almost there?" Grace whines from the back seat. Erin groans at her and slumps against the door.

"Yes," I assure both of them as I turn down the street Jacob told me Diana's house is on. I look down the left side of the street for the big blue one. Grace sees it first.

"There it is! The blue one! Number one-forty-two! There it is, Dad!"

I laugh at her excitement. "I see it, love. Calm down." As I pull up to the curb, she's out the door before I even turn off the car and is sprinting toward the front door. Erin mumbles something sarcastic-sounding under her breath before following.

"Should I feel this nervous?" Clara asks, trying to laugh. I smile at her as best I can. I know exactly how she feels, and I tell her so. She seems to look comforted by that at least.

By the time we get to door, the girls have disappeared inside already, and Jacob is standing in the doorway waiting for us, smiling in amusement. As I climb the steps to the porch, I can hear Grace's excited chatter.

"Hey," is all he says when we finally get to him. Clara smiles warmly and squeezes his arm as she slips past him into the house, looking for our daughters.

"Hey," I say back. He grins, and I can't help it. I pull him into a hug. He sort of freezes for a moment before hugging me back, and while it puzzles me, I don't comment when he pulls away.

"Come on in," he invites, turning and disappearing into the house as well.

Stepping into the little entry, I see a small sitting room off to the left. Grace is sitting on the settee in there, talking animatedly with a girl with short brown hair who is holding Summer. Erin is sitting at the other end of the sofa with her arms and legs crossed, looking uncomfortable. Looking to the right, I see Clara leaning against a breakfast bar counter, smiling and talking with an older, more stressed-looking version of Diana Parks.

She looks up when I step into the dining room, and for just a moment a spasm of pain shoots across her face, but it's gone so quickly that I'm sure no one else notices. Instantly a smile takes its place, and it seems so genuine that I almost forget that awful look.

"Nicholas Foster," she says warmly, coming around the counter. I'd forgotten how short she is, but I hug her anyway, and she holds on a moment longer than I do before releasing me.

"Haven't changed a bit," she says fondly, and I have to smile.

"I can see you've already met Clara," I say, and both women beam at me.

"But _you_ haven't met _me_," a voice says. I turn to see the young woman I saw holding Summer standing there, striking a pose in the doorway, grinning. Diana laughs.

"Clara, Nick, this is Kaitlyn. She works with Jake," Diana introduces. Kaitlyn comes forward, smiling, her hand outstretched.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," she says enthusiastically, shaking first my hand then Clara's. "I've heard _all_ about you," she adds, laughing. I find myself liking this girl, and I'm suddenly grateful that my son has a friend like this.

x.x

Jake

I wasn't sure what to expect from Gran and Kate, but they both behaved wonderfully, and the dinner went off without any problems at all. Grace warmed up to Kaitlyn instantly – of course – and Clara and Gran seemed to really hit it off. Nick spent most of his time talking to Kate, and he seemed to really like her as well. Even Erin talked a little, with a little prompting, which surprised me; she'd been so antisocial the two times I saw here before.

Now, sitting on the sofa with Kaitlyn and Summer, I find myself truly content. The world seems to have become a brighter place.

Kate smiles at me. "I really like your family," she informs me. Her tone suggests she wouldn't mind seeing them again – soon. I have to laugh.

"I think they liked you as well," I assure her. She beams. Then she sighs and stands. I follow suit, and she reluctantly surrenders my daughter.

"I'll see you at work Monday?" she questions as we walk to the door. I nod at her.

"Yep. Bright and early," I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. She notices my tone and gives me a knowing look.

"I'm looking forward to it just as much as you are," she assures me, opening the door and stepping into the cool night.

"Thanks, Kate," I murmur. Her expression softens immediately.

"You're my best friend," she reminds me gently, touching my arm. I manage a smile at that.

"You too," I assure her, hugging her quickly. She squeezes my arm, kisses Summer, and starts off toward her car. I watch her go, wondering what on earth I did to deserve a friend like her.

Maybe life won't be so bad from now on after all.**

* * *

A/N**: Aw, now it's _really_ over. Sad. BUT! I have a surprise for you coming soon. All I can say is that you should add me to your author alerts if you're curious. I don't want to give it away yet. It should be coming in the next few weeks. No, it's not FT4 millions of months early. But it's almost as good. Trust me! You'll all love it.

Also, I've completely revamped my profile, and I have a new website! There's info about it on my profile. AND I have a new poll up! You should definitely check it out.

Please review! Thanks again for everything. It's because of you that this story has kept going as long as it has. You're all wonderful.

Sincerely,  
Megan


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